Love, Art and a Hawk
by HungerDragon
Summary: Peeta Mellark never expected the girl he's loved for eleven years to end up in his tenth grade art class at Madderson High. He's hoping they can now finally get to know each other, become friends and perhaps even something more. But with Gale like a hawk watching closely from the sides, what will become of them when he's preparing to go to unspeakable lengths to split them apart?
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games trilogy. Everything belongs to Suzanne Collins._

 _Hello!_

 _This was a story I'd been working on years ago, and while I haven't worked on it in quite a while, I decided to re-post what I originally had written. Back when I was working on it, I also went back and added some new scenes, so if anyone remembers this story (back then it was titled Romance, Art and a Hawk. But I ended up changing it to Love, Art and a Hawk), I hope you'll get some enjoyment out of revisiting it. I apologize if sentence structure and grammar and spelling isn't 100% perfect. It was a while ago I wrote this. One of these days, maybe I'll dive back in and tidy everything up. For now, I'm simply posting them for reading purposes._

 _For any new readers, I hope you like what I had written._

 _Unfortunately, I'm really not sure if I'll ever get around to finishing the story completely. I've been really busy with life in general and I just haven't had the drive to return to working on this story. But who knows? One of these days I might revisit these chapters and think, "You know what? I should really bring some closure to this."_

 _Anyway, as for the story, it's set in a universe different from what we see in the Hunger Games. This universe takes place prior to the beginning of the Hunger Games. There is actually something different that has been occurring for years, but that's not something that would be revealed and explained till closer to the end of the story. So I hope I find some inspiration again to return to this story so I can spill all those secrets._

 _Please feel free to stop by and say hi :)_

* * *

 **CHAPTER 1**

 **SEPTEMBER**

Peeta Mellark made his way eagerly through the countless halls of Madderson High in purposeful strides, holding a school map while occasionally glancing down at it. He was sixteen, his first day of high school was continuing to unfold, and so far his day had gone fairly well. He'd only gotten lost once which had surprised him what with how enormous in size the impressive building was. While clusters of people were heading this way and that, stepping into wrong classrooms, winding up on unrecognizable floors, and ending up on the opposite side of the school, his map was doing a decent job at serving as a guide. Certainly better than he'd expected.

He had just one class remaining and it was the one class he'd been preparing for and getting himself pumped for during his last few days of summer. Now that he was mercifully close to attending that class, his anticipation as to what it was holding in store for him was only increasing.

His destination?

Art class.

He'd already spent his free – an hour-long period where students could dedicate time to studying for upcoming tests or finishing assignments – wandering the school in the hopes of better familiarizing himself with it.

On top of that, he'd already been to math and biology which from his viewpoint weren't the most thrilling subjects – math in particular. His friend Marvel would have dozed off like a log in math if he hadn't nudged him awake, warning him that Ms. Coin would have punished him with a tedious, ten-minute lecture about snoozing in class. Surprisingly, he'd managed to keep the guy awake till the bell signaling the end of class had rung but every now and then he'd catch him closing his eyes and dropping his head, noticeably uninterested. It had taken him a grand total of three minutes to conclude that Marvel was indubitably less fond of the world of tenth grade mathematics than he was.

After having sat through a grueling hour of biology with Mr. Boggs – a strict, no-nonsense type of teacher – he was dying to make his way to a class he knew he'd one hundred percent fall in love with. Having listened to Ms. Coin ramble on from ten till eleven hadn't made the day all that fascinating either. Her droning, unenthusiastic voice suggested that she was just as bored teaching math as students were scrambling to pay heed to what she was emphasizing, jot down significant points and absorb the material. It made Peeta question why she'd become an educator in the first place. If she didn't take pleasure in what she was discussing, then why had she decided to assume a permanent career in teaching?

He didn't spend much time pondering about it as his mind was no longer focused on math or biology.

It was purely and gleefully on art.

What he was downright excited for was getting the chance to create some expressive, transcendent art. Where some would have felt content with producing a simple, easy piece of work, his mind went far beyond this. For as long as he could recall, he'd never viewed art as an effortless, speedy procedure but rather, one that required patience, dedication and meticulous focus. What he craved more than anything was the opportunity to mold in to existence a masterpiece that was thorough and unique while using every utensil he could imagine.

It was all that had been mulled over in the past few weeks.

He'd always had a passion for using his artistic mind to create beauty with colors, lines and shapes of all sorts, but he hadn't gotten to do any profound art-making. Not the type he'd been craving, anyway. That was due to his mother having never permitted him to go out and purchase all the materials he'd want and need. It confused him as to why she prohibited such a basic and innocent request. They cleared a sufficient amount of money with the bakery they'd been managing for years, unarguably enough to acquire some brushes and canvases. So what was the rationale for stringently disallowing her son to obtain these necessary instruments?

As their business ran so efficiently, her justification for denying what he'd asked for wasn't to do with the fact that they were impoverished, as they weren't. Residing in a home where three meals a day were guaranteed and salaries poured in on a regular basis, impecunious was a word that couldn't be applied when classifying their stature. They weren't scraping by, shivering at night from the unforgiving winds of winter or scrounging for morsels like some deprived, famished inhabitants were. Far from it. Yes, there were bakeries that proved wealthier than themselves but the establishment the Mellarks had running was in no way unprofitable. The issue didn't involve a consistent lack of money or plunging status, as their family was living life just as comfortably as the next.

No, he knew what the real reason was and it didn't concern how much they grossed.

In such complex situations where one's frame of mind was incapable of undergoing persuasion, wealth was virtually irrelevant.

So then why was the door so frequently slammed in response to what he cared to possess?

It was because his mother just didn't care.

She deemed it simply ridiculous for her son to squander such valued earnings on things to do with art when he had all the cakes he could ever need right in his very home. She'd constantly be chiding him, "You aren't gonna go out and waste our hard-earned money, Peeta! It doesn't grow on trees you know. It needs to be earned, cherished and not used to bring such worthless junk into the house! There's plenty of cakes right here for you to adorn so quit asking to buy paints, brushes, canvases and all those rubbish items you blather on about. They'd take up too much space as it is and the last thing we need is a cluttered house. Tripping over brushes, stepping in paints and god knows what else. For the thousandth time, Peeta, the answer is no, so get your ludicrous head out of the clouds and smarten the hell up!"

This unyielding strictness meant her son would receive as little exposure to art as possible, which was precisely what had happened.

Her unswayable eight rules for the duration of his confined life in relation to art had been as follows:

 **ONLY the paper and pencils from home are to be used for art purposes.**

 **NO equipment – expensive or not – will be obtained and brought into the house.**

 **NO one-on-one tutors – or any tutor for that matter, expensive or not – will be hired.**

 **Registration in classes outside of school is NOT acceptable. Expensive or not, they are not to be enrolled in.**

 **Online subscriptions via phones, laptops and mobile devices are NOT authorized, expensive or not.**

 **Engaging in swaps at school will NOT be approved of.**

 **NO course of action with the intention of collecting art necessities is to be attempted.**

 **NO money is to be wasted on art.**

His father, on the contrary, had continually felt bad Peeta and wished he could have picked up some tools for his imaginative son, but his wife would not have tolerated it. She'd have flown into an outrage if she discovered her husband was making an effort to go against her wishes and violate her carefully laid out rules. If she caught him in the act of throwing away their beloved cash all so their son could have more to engage himself with than the limitless supply of cakes stored in their bakery, then it would have been world war three. His cold-as-stone wife was the primary voice and final decision maker of the house. Consequently, nobody – not her husband nor her three sons – dared kick up a fuss or tried to change her opinion on how she demanded things be.

Doing so would have been worse than foolish.

It would have been pointless.

So for years Peeta had kept busy decorating and finalizing the various cakes displayed in the double-paned windows of his family's bakery. It was enjoyable, and he liked inspecting the final piece of what he'd embellished, but what he desperately ached for was to try something besides frosting and baking. He wanted to draw on papers used exclusively for water colors, pastels and charcoals, as opposed to everyday loose-leaf and white paper. He wanted to paint on canvases and have no limitations to what he could fashion with his hands and imagination. He knew there was so much more he could be challenged with and not carry on performing the same, identical thing over and over, day after day, week after week. So many cakes he'd designed and frosted and it was starting to feel less invigorating what with how much he'd begun fantasizing about sketching and painting. To expand his horizon on what he could bring to life with art and how it could enliven his own life and repetitive routine was what he longed for.

His hunger for exploring the undiscovered layers within art had initially arisen in the later years of preschool.

Lessons at Saybrook Elementary had offered a mixture of activities – finger painting, developing illustrations with buttons, leaf printmaking, weaving cups, recreating cave art, thumb print art, fabric mosaics, paper mache animals and collages. It wasn't that Peeta hadn't appreciated all they'd organized with art for the children because he had, but he'd repeatedly pined for a taste of thoroughness. To dive deeper, to burrow beneath the outermost coating of artistic aptitude and uncover profundity was what he'd thirsted for.

And teachers were all too quickly aware of this.

"Are you not having fun drawing, Peeta?" his third-grade teacher had asked, observing him curiously. Noticing his eyes transfixed on the crisp autumn leaves fluttering out near the playground, Ms. Paylor had wondered why he wasn't remixing his brush in the puddles of colors.

"Oh, I am," he'd responded with a nod, his eyes still preoccupied with the mingling of red, orange and yellow. "It's just…I just can't wait to learn more about art."

"No worries. You'll learn all you need to once you're in to your higher grades."

Settling in to the fifth grade, Mrs. Lyme had sensed how fluent of a learner Peeta was in comparison to the other students.

"You okay, Peeta?" he'd heard her say. He'd paused halfway through a nicely-unfolding portrait depicting an inviting cottage tucked away in the rolling hills of a serene countryside.

"I'm okay," he'd answered, smiling at the wooden cottage nestled snugly in the nearly finished surroundings of his portrayal. "I just can't wait to try new techniques and use new brushes and add more to what I make. There's just so much to learn about art and I wish I could know it all now."

"All in good time," Mrs. Lyme had stated.

By sixth grade, he was greatly anticipating the education that would assist him in furthering his journey of expansion and confidence.

A few months later and he'd been shocked him to learn of the setup at Sanford Junior High.

Where art had been one of the classes available for selection at Saybrook, it was completely absent at his newest school. Accordingly, his three years at Sanford had involved no drawing, painting, sculpturing or any art-associated activities. Hence, he'd grabbed any opening he could where he could lie contently on his bed, loosen up and spend hours envisioning and drafting whimsical characters in picturesque sceneries. So often his evenings had consisted of him stretched out on his stomach, eyes glued to his phone, immersed in online videos and step-by-step demonstrations.

And while he may not have been provided with hands-on experiences, he reveled in the chance to delve in to the inspiring stories of renowned artists. Thankfully, it seemed like they always had productive advice to communicate to those longing for a future in art.

Historic names like Weldon Shofur, Priscilla Cordell, Flynn Harding and Augusto Worn were all ones he'd grown to admire. From their outstanding expertise and life-long dedication to acknowledging their enthusiasm with art, Peeta had been treated to an assembling of sage guidance from notable scholars. Listening to their words and dissecting the concealed meanings had boosted his keenness. With such a varied assortment of adept professionals, he'd felt that all the abundance of knowledge he'd been exposed to would rejoin him once high school began.

This assumption couldn't have been truer.

It was strolling through the corridors of Madderson High that he was currently appreciating just how lucky he was going to be. He was now on his way to a class that would provide him with everything he could ever possibly want and even more.

Simply put, there would be no boundaries to the creative potential he could unlock from within in a class like art.

Needless to say, that had been embedded in his mind since kindergarten.

When he arrived at room C4 in pod three – which was located at the far, right-hand side of the institution next to the gymnasium – he walked straight in. Upon entering, he immediately took in what an extensive room it was with a dappled ceiling resting squarely over his head. Anyone might have assumed it had been splashed with an array of exploding colors, explaining the thousands of polka-dots sprinkled across the plaster.

A quick glance around showed there were exactly forty people and ten tables with four students situated at each desk. He'd gotten a brief look at rooms in the math, science, history and health departments, but this was by far one of the largest ones. Some rooms had contained only a maximum of twenty or thirty individuals, but he figured that since art was likely one of the most popular subjects, it would explain the enormous room and crowd of students.

Not only was the room big enough in size, but it was garnished and bursting with colors that lit up the room like it was the most splendid art gallery in all of Panem. Unlike schools whose walls were painted in drab browns or boring grays, the walls of this room were coated in a stunning forest green. It was a perfect shade of green too; not too bright so as to be unattractive to gaze at, but not dark enough to appear dreary and dejected. There were two rectangular, glass-paned windows that looked out on the back of the school, an area comprised of four basketball nets and endless woods that were brimming with thriving trees. Two tall plants were even positioned on either side of the windows, giving the impression that the room was just as much outside as it was indoors. Both were about five-feet tall with olive-colored leaves, a sturdy stem dotted with tiny, curved thorns and slender petals that were a gorgeous crimson pink. They weren't like any flower Peeta had ever seen but the shade of pink was so beautiful and the scent smelled like a refreshing combination of fully-bloomed roses and magnolias.

Next were the paintings.

Wherever Peeta's eyes landed, he saw framed paintings on the walls – gentle waves crashing against the shore of a sandy beach, a breathtaking sunset with morphing hues of orange and red; a flock of twittering birds taking to the sky; a house at Christmas time with crisp, powdery snow falling and billows of smoke rising out of a chimney; a faint, but visible rainbow stretching the length of a meadow and a man unexpectedly stumbling across it with awe-struck eyes; two lovers swept up in a fervent embrace while a torrential downpour drenched them from head to toe, and even a little boy with his back pressed against a tree, engrossed in an unputdownable book loaded with selfless knights and wondrous adventure.

There were definitely more than enough paintings and if he had to guess, he would have estimated there was close to fifty in total. It was absorbing the splendor of the many paintings that he knew this teacher was evidently a lover of art. Knowing this, he could barely wait to be taught the skills that would enrich and inspire his inventive mind for years to come. And who better to be educated by than from a man who was undeniably just as zealous about the world of art as he was?

There was no arguing that this vibrantly-adorned room was where he was destined to be.

But aside from the eye-popping colors, exotic plants and detailed canvases, what really stood out for him were the supplies. There were dozens of them and even as he allowed his eyes to inspect them one by one, it would have taken him over an hour to go through such a collection; there were just that many of them. Regardless of where his eyes were fixed – on shelves, countertops that were lined with essential equipment or numerous tables that were randomly scattered with an ample of goods – there was something to take in. There was paper of all dimensions and textures, freshly-sharpened pencils, charcoals, canvases, tubes of paints, brushes, watercolors, easels, markers, sketchbooks and all that was needed. It was all here, ready to be used and if put in the appropriate hands, could help a student mature into the potential artist they dreamed of one day becoming.

In a way, it was like the supplies were speaking directly to Peeta, informing him that he was now equipped to embark on his lifelong dream of eventually becoming an artist.

He was raring to go.

 _This is gonna be awesome!_ His excitement was rising to much grander heights and he hadn't even been instructed yet on what his task for the hour would be. _Sixteen years I've waited and now I can finally do whatever I want with art, and see just how much there is to create. All the paints and brushes and papers I can use! I'll get to learn how to use all this!_

He shifted his eyes to a picturesque landscape that momentarily transported him to a wide-open prairie. White, downy clouds drifted lazily along the expanse of an afternoon sky while a herd of cattle grazed on the patches of dew soaked grass below.

 _I wonder what the teacher's got planned for the first day?_

Next to it was an abstract representation portraying a fictional woman who was partially human, partly animal. A silky bundle of hair flowed down to her shoulders, but it was debatable as to whether or not the golden hair wasn't in actuality the mane of a lion. The pistachio green reflected in her gleaming eyes echoed that of a cat's, yet interestingly, were still visibly feminine. With the rounded snout of a pig, pointed ears of a hare and black face markings of a shifty raccoon, Peeta was positive of one imperative observation.

Mr. Odair was a man with a sense of humor.

The title of the amusing creation?

 _Human? Animal? You tell me!_

Peeta hadn't a clue, but he was starting to have an idea of what this gifted expert had arranged for the semester's beginning class.

 _Something fun_ , he concluded with a mounting burst of fervor.

He settled on selecting a seat closest to the back so he could go on scrutinizing more of the materials and develop a sense of what sort of tools he'd be relying on for projects. When he was seated, right off the bat he spotted a teeny, cube-shaped delicacy in front of him. He gingerly picked up this miniature-sized square and following closer inspection, recognized it for what it was – a sugar cube. Letting his eyes float from one table to the next, it was revealed that each of them held one of these delectable treats. Though it wasn't the most outlandish sight he could have perceived, it wasn't the most common either. Common would have included papers, pencils, erasers, sketchbooks, brushes or some art-related tool.

Not sugar cubes.

 _Sugar cubes?_ Peeta felt nothing but puzzled as he carried on contemplating what kind of connection art could share with these exceptionally sweet tidbits. Perhaps the objective of that hour would be to re-create their three-dimensional structure. _Maybe it's got something to do with what we'll be doing? Not sure what he's got in mind though unless he plans on offering us tea. That would be cool. Art and tea would make a nice combination._

While he wasn't one for including sugar in his tea, that didn't mean he'd refuse an invitation for snacks.

Not when the confections were compacted granules of sugar.

He set the cube back down on the table and only one thing crossed his mind as he went on eyeing it. _Whatever they're for, I hope we'll get to eat them!_

Already seated on his left was a girl with crimped, black hair and a guy with a pretty spectacular-looking afro. They were discussing how their classes had gone, which teachers they liked and didn't like, and what they hoped to accomplish in tenth grade art.

He reckoned the two were friends and as he analyzed how the girl was responding, it was hard to mistake the gleam in her eye as she listened to the guy with the rainbow-colored afro speak. It was catching this joyous spark in her eye that Peeta instantly knew the two weren't just friends – they were joined by a fastened bond of love. Lingering about them was a romantic air and it was one that couldn't have been easily overlooked.

It was when the girl's cheeks broke out in a cherry red after receiving an irresistibly charming grin from this guy that Peeta was abruptly struck with a sense of…lonesomeness. Plenty of instances in his life and more times than he would have liked he'd experienced what loneliness was. Based on the years that had recently left him, he was by no means a stranger to the sentiment that had stuck with him like a virus to a targeted host.

No, he was all too familiar with that unpleasant sensation, and vice versa.

It surfaced almost daily at home, which was where the worst of it emerged. Latching onto his vulnerable self and burrowing painfully into the core of his overwhelming yearnings, it pursued him everywhere. Day in and day out he'd be forced to endure this unbearable suffering. Clearly, this would promote the materializing of it in circumstances that had yet to be acknowledged and predictably…it had.

Incidents where his eyes had fallen on the interlocked hands of enamored couples as they sauntered aimlessly by had commonly re-triggered it. Gazing at the smiles they wore and sensing the genuine affection they shared was for him, equivalent to a throbbing punch to the gut. The flirtatious joking was a noise that had followed him in the hallways at school, out in the crowded public and above all, in the stillness of his room at home in the bakery.

Despite his endeavors to block out the resurfacing of these exchanged jokes, smiles, embracings and forged bonds, they hadn't diminished. Like a film placed on rerun, they'd persisted to replay and relentlessly overpowered his ability to vanquish them.

It was right then that he realized how truly lonely he'd been for the past several years.

Naturally, he couldn't help wish the girl he loved – Katniss Everdeen – was sitting right alongside him. He wished they were together and that he could give her an irresistibly charismatic grin that would send her cheeks flushing madly. He would have given anything to see a sparkle in her eyes that told him she'd opened her heart and unreservedly combined it in unison with his.

Unfortunately, there was no hiding from the unavoidable truth that the likelihood of this happening was terribly slim.

Unfeasible even.

For the previous nine years, not once had the two spoken face to face in school. The most they'd ever addressed the other with was a quick, casual glance. Never had he actually approached her in class, at her locker, in the hall or by the entrance doors to say hi, ask to hang out with her and possibly become friends. His nerves had proven too great and the hesitancy and possibility of rejection had only intensified as the years passed by.

Thus, he'd spent every year in school admiring her in silence and wishing so deeply the two could somehow bump into each other; he knew he wouldn't have it in him to pluck up the courage to make it reality. He was just too shy, quiet and timorous and it was these three maddening attributes that had been holding him back for so very long.

Nevertheless, there was no point in brooding over it forever. He was now in the class he'd been so thrilled to get started in, so he did his best to concentrate solely on that.

How swiftly his attention was diverted.

Tucking his orange-colored bag under his table, he went on sitting there with his arms stretched out along the wooden plane. His fingers were lightly drumming the desk in a rhythmic pattern of _tap-tap-tap-tap-tap_ , doing so out of sheer exuberance. To say that he couldn't wait for class to begin was an understatement. He felt sure that he was unquestionably the most excited, but he doubted everyone else's mothers behaved as callously as his by refusing to let their child buy things as simple as paints and brushes.

No, he was positive only his mother was that insensitive.

This was confirmed when the guy with the brilliant afro and the black-haired girl began sharing why that summer had been so particularly splendid.

"Ms. Shaylo was genius," the guy remarked, recalling the weekly art sessions he and his girlfriend had attended in July and August. "She really taught us a lot."

"She knew her stuff, that's for sure," the girl agreed.

"I'll probably re-register this summer," he replied, digging into his pack and pulling out a photo of a model sculpted meticulously out of clay. It was a delicate carving with a variety of components – a branch derived from a flourishing fruit tree with a half-eaten peach attached to it; two speckled eggs burrowed in a cup woven out of twigs; an inchworm sliding hungrily towards the leftover fruit, and a feline's scratch marks notched on the tree's exterior.

The girl examined the snapshot and chuckled in amusement, "I remember that! Poor old Jimmy the inchworm. All he wanted was a nibble of that peach. And the villainous cat who couldn't stop trying to snatch up that trio of eggs for supper. Still can't tell who's hungrier. The worm or the cat?"

"And I remember yours." He beamed at her and threw in jokily, "Have to admit, it wasn't all that mind-blowing and was kinda average, no offense. That palm tree could have used a few more coconuts, and the leaves should have been longer and thicker."

"Average, huh?" she shot back, raising a brow in false irritation. It then faded rapidly and as anticipated, he was shown one of her playful smirks. "Think you got that mixed up, pal. What I built was in no way average so I recommend you re-think that."

"Alright, I surrender!" he shot back, lifting his hands up and guffawing. "You win."

"I win!" she proclaimed victoriously. Nudging him in the arm, she whispered, "Again."

"Yes, again," the guy sighed, meeting her eyes with a jocular expression.

"Yay me."

"Yours was awesome though," he complimented, tucking the photo back into his bag. "I'd have to say your beach recreation was one of the best I've seen. The wave, palm tree, shells on the sand, it was all lovely."

She shrugged modestly. "No lovelier than yours."

"My dear, I'd say that's highly debatable," he countered with a charismatic wink.

"If you say so," she said, and she too was sending him a wink.

"Good thing my mom told me about that program," the guy went on while twirling his pencil in circles. "Who knows if I would have found out about it? Soon as school was out, I flipped through a bunch of ads but didn't find any art ones. They had summer camps, tutors for summer school, volunteering events and brochures for traveling throughout Panem, but no art seminars. And whatever tutorials I did find, they were all booked up."

"They filled up fast," she commented with an incredulous shake of her head.

"Too fast. July wasn't even here yet and spots were already booking up."

"Those people were in a hurry to get going."

"So was I. And if mom hadn't signed me up, I wouldn't have been given a spot."

"Same with me," the girl said, crossing her legs. "If you hadn't told me about those classes, I wouldn't have joined you."

"That would have left me without a partner."

"That makes your mom a hero then."

"Yeah," he chortled, realizing her statement wasn't too far off from being accurate. "Makes sense too. She's the one that helped me get a spot in those classes. Who would have known mom would end up jumping in to save the day?"

"And summer vacation."

"That too."

Instantaneously, Peeta's mother's ruthless words crawled once more into his pensive mind. Amplified in volume and more stringent than ever, it sucked him back to a few days ago. It was when she'd unnecessarily recapped her unbending expectations to her youngest son. As if afraid he'd furtively disregard her parameters and disobey her, yet again she'd hammered her orders into his consciousness.

 _No equipment will be obtained and brought into the house._

 _No tutors._

 _No registration in classes._

 _Get your ludicrous head out of the clouds!_

 _Smarten the hell up!_

 _ **No money is to be wasted on art!**_

Obviously, it was because of her uncompromising attitude that Peeta hadn't partaken in any art tutorials. Where handfuls of students were registered and participating by the end of June, Mrs. Mellark's son had strived to not let these invisible chains dampen his mood. He took advantage of his laptop and phone which gratefully, weren't categorized as unnecessary by his mother. To ensure continual academic achievements in junior and high school, she encouraged the use of such technology. This meant that to guarantee grades of A's and B's with research papers, assignments and online collaborative discussions, her son had to have daily access to the internet.

What he chose to do in his spare time on computers was trivial to her. Solitaire, music, browsing the web, who cared?

All that mattered was maintaining as excellent of grades as possible…and assisting at home in the bakery.

Lugging hundred-pound sacks of flour, kneading, shaping and cooking bread, applying elegant motifs to multi-layered cakes and operating the cash register was only a small fraction of the duties he was responsible for fulfilling. Also responsible for pitching in were his two older brothers – Rye and Luchi – his mother, and his father who'd originally founded their local business.

Nowhere was it allowable for him to incorporate art-related hobbies into this schedule.

Not now and not anytime soon.

That was why he was so extremely excited to be there in that class. His mother irrefutably set restrictions pertaining to art at home but her influence was officially and eternally broken in that classroom.

Now freedom at last could be relished.

For an entire year, he could now have all the supplies he desired, newly-bought and all at his very fingertips. Having sat through an hour of introductory algebra and an hour of learning the in-depth arrangement of plant and animal cells, he was more than psyched for a challenge. His mind was still sorting out and deciphering what he'd been taught earlier that morning, but there was still an adequate amount of space for digestion of what this teacher had prepared. Fortunately for him his mind was in a state of ambitiousness as creating a work of art was what he'd been awaiting for all summer. To have a sketch, painting or accomplished artistic production he could smile at and think proudly _I made this!_ would be all but gratifying.

After ten years of patiently waiting, his childhood aspirations were about to come true.

And although it would have been wonderful if Katniss too could have been there to bask in the excitement, she wasn't.

In any case, as much as he would have been elated by her company, he wasn't about to dwell on it. Time was precious and he wanted to savor in the opportunities this class was about to deliver.

He didn't have long to stay wrapped up in his intriguing reveries, however.

Finnick Odair – one of the cooler teachers of Madderson High, who taught grades ten, eleven and twelve art – was presently introducing himself. While carrying an armload of papers, he strolled into the center of the room where he set down the towering pile on one of the tables. What Peeta couldn't help notice was how strikingly green the guy's eyes were. The pigmentation in his irises was so lively and radiant that they reminded him of the color of a tranquil sea or dazzling jewel. Judging by the youth that glowed so perceptibly on his face, he presumed he was a man in his early thirties. He was near six feet tall with tan-skin and thick, bronze-colored hair and as he was of a muscular build, he was notably athletic. There was no disagreeing with the fact that he was a handsome gentleman. He was dressed nonchalantly in a brown t-shirt and denims that were splattered with various tinges of paint – cherry reds, sapphire blues, emerald greens and lavender purples. Though his pants weren't like any jeans Peeta had ever observed, what so prominently stood out about him were his eyes. Not only were they entrancing, but there was a level of enigmatic depth to them that paralleled the bottomless depths of a colossal ocean.

"Welcome everyone!" Mr. Odair gregariously announced. "Name's Finnick Odair and I'm gonna be your tenth grade art instructor from now until June. Great to see so many of you here. Now I know some teachers prefer to go into detail about their lives and whatnot, but I don't want to go ahead and bore you all to sleep with my story. That's all blah blah blah to you, though if you ever want to hear a story or two of mine, just give me a shout. I'd be more than willing to spill some of my wildest adventures and believe me…art's full of them. As for the gist of my life, there's really not much to tell. I've been in love with art for years and I've been fortunate to have been able to pass on my knowledge at Madderson High for just as many. Every second of it I've enjoyed immensely and it's a job I wouldn't trade for any other. The way I see it, every day helps me see art in a new, invigorating light, so I'd say that makes my job feel like a pretty exciting one. Between a lifetime of researching all the artists that came before ones like myself and putting what I've learned into practice, I feel I have much to share with you."

He rubbed his chin in contemplation and with a broad smile, continued, "Guess that's just about all you need to know about me. I love art, I love teaching it and it's my personal goal to ensure all of you leave this class at the end of the year with a greater appreciation and perception of art than when you first walked through that door. If I can pull that off, then I'll have done my job. I know not everyone is crazy about art but I can promise you this will be a relaxed and pleasurable environment. There's no need to fret as there isn't much to stress yourself with in this class. If you do your work and try your best, it's absolutely impossible to end with a failing grade. Trust me on that. The most important factor to commit to memory is: keep an open mind and don't hesitate to explore and expand your imagination. That alone is the most incredible gift you've got when it comes to art. Whether you choose to delve into what your enormously packed minds have to offer is choice entirely."

It was then that Peeta found his concentration shifting gradually elsewhere and unable to ignore it, he turned his head to identify what it was.

What his probing eyes encountered was a strange, but remarkably captivating picture hanging high up on the wall. A quick glance at the top and he saw the work was titled _Struggled, Shattered, Survived_. He made an effort to try and decipher what significance could be obscured within those three words, but was unsuccessful. He was stumped as to what implications might have been integrated into this canvas, but he could easily unravel its features.

The entwined colors and alien shapes were distinctly chaotic and made him think of a roaring, out of control storm that couldn't be tamed. Its hues were gloomy and inferred that whoever had constructed this painting must have been experiencing a time of distress in their life, and they'd expressed their woe through multiple, interweaving colors.

But this work of art wasn't only of blending shadows that engulfed like ravenous phantoms.

When Peeta studied the painting more methodically, he detected the tiniest streaks that trickled like rivers along the edges of the frame. Scarcely detectable, they were buried like treasure in the cloudiness of grays and browns that acted as a disguise but nonetheless…they existed.

There was luminosity in what resembled twinkling stars in the dead of night.

In all, he thought the elaborate image was both haunting and extraordinary. Signs of apparent sadness and affliction were shown what with the murkiness but in contrast, it wasn't all dim and of consuming depression. A faint, but noticeable glow wound its way into the gloom. It was like this narrow light was boldly fighting to break out of the clutches of despair and strengthen its color and beauty.

From his own perspective, it was a piece that was unforgettable.

He could visualize himself in the years to come, still fascinated over this dismal-yet-inspiring depiction.

He was still looking the painting over with the greatest of interest and contemplating if he'd at one point be capable of crafting such a dramatically marvelous piece…when someone quietly approached the entrance to the room.

The new arrival didn't say a word or even give a curious look around at her fellow pupils or the numberless compositions strung up on the walls. She merely went on standing in the doorway as if feeling a tad bit tentative about entering. Her eyes weren't darting from table to table or canvas to canvas, as Peeta's had been. They were peering downward, seemingly frozen in place and apathetic towards the buzzing chatter.

Checking her map briefly and then stuffing it back into the pocket of her bootleg jeans, she strode inside.

"Come right in!" she heard a man welcomingly telling her. "Just sorting out a few last papers but please, make yourself at home! Shouldn't take me long to get things rolling here. In a few more minutes, the much talked about show that's tenth grade art will be underway."

"I'm not late, am I?"

"Late? Not at all," he reassured her. "Still got about three minutes till I get this show on the road so no, you're not late. He gestured to the clock on the wall and added frivolously, "Three minutes from now and you would have been though."

Peeta's eyes were off that painting in a flash.

The various shapes, colors and zigzagging lines no longer appeared as compelling as they had about five seconds ago. What had temporarily snatched his attention so readily was now fading and receding from his central vision.

No longer did the darkness that exhibited such grays and blacks or the uniqueness come across as dark or unique. Not a single aspect of that work of art came across as fantastic anymore, and that was all due to what had crept so out of the blue into his peripheral field of vision. Now smoothly penetrating into his central vision, the magnificence of that artist's illustration was less mesmerizing.

Mesmerizing was who he was now unintentionally gaping at.

It was the one, unshakable thing he'd been hoping for the moment he'd stepped into that room and taken a seat.

The first, initial thought that sprang to Peeta's now whirling mind was: _is that really her?_

It was.

As unbelievable and totally unforeseen as it was, it was her.

The second thought that popped into his realm of swirling musings was: _I hope my head doesn't explode._

He couldn't refrain from watching her, his head racing in a million directions as the girl walked around in search of a seat. She first checked to her right and concluding that every seat was occupied, awkwardly made her way over to the opposite side of the room.

A dark green t-shirt, jeans and running shoes that had gotten much use out of them was what she was wearing. Her long black hair was fashioned in a practical braid that fell straight down her back and out of the twenty-five girls gathered, hers was the only one in that specific style. It was the grayness in her almond-shaped eyes – both entrancing and mysterious – that cast Peeta under a mesmerized spell. A deep raptness arose in him and reaching the surface, he almost forgot what class he was in. She was exactly the same as she'd always been with her olive skin, silvery eyes and typical braid, but he was suddenly feeling as if it were his first time seeing her. He'd laid eyes on her practically every day of his life in school, but it felt like all these reminiscences were getting wiped out and replacing them was this one, single moment of her winding up in his high school art class.

The amazing realization that she was an enrolled student in what would end up as his most beloved class was indeed playing tricks on him. He was starting to have serious doubts as to what class he was in, where he should be and what time the persistently tick-tocking clock was displaying.

 _Art?_ He was unsure if that was even correct but when he considered math and biology that made no sense in the slightest. He'd been to both those classes prior to lunch as well as free, so all three were implausible which left only one logical explanation remaining.

Shaking himself together and understanding how dangerously close he was to allowing his nerves to get the best of him, asserted firmly, _you're in art, Peeta! Art. You're in art but she's…she's in it too. Two things you love are coming together. That's all…no big deal. It's just the girl you've loved for eleven years now in what's gonna be your favorite class. Just keep calm._

The majority of seats as the girl soon saw were already taken, so she remained off to the side, appearing and feeling rather awkward. It didn't help that there were so many students and pointing out an available seat wasn't as easy as she'd supposed it would be, especially since she didn't want to be in that class in the first place. She wasn't there because she wanted to be – she was there only because it was required of her. If she intended on completing high school and ultimately graduating with a well-earned diploma, then she'd have to have a minimum of one art credit listed on her final transcript. If she failed in achieving that, then she wouldn't be declared eligible to join her friends on the celebratory day that was the sixth of July.

The outcome?

No certificate, meaning there'd be no farewell to this nine-month course. That in itself would be a disaster, as she wasn't one with a knack for art, nor did she care for the discipline.

That was why it was so crucial she pass. Pass this class and then it would be goodbye to art and two years later…hello graduation.

So there she was, halfhearted but ready to tackle the necessity that was tenth grade art. Choosing to get it done now and out of the way would mean there'd be no worries about signing up for eleventh or twelfth grade art. The way she saw it, having to sign up for even one art class was far too many for her liking and if she could be in charge of it all, art wouldn't be mandatory. Instead, it would be labeled as optional. Those who weren't fans of the activity could steer clear of it like the plague and do as they pleased. To her disappointment, this wasn't the way things ran.

So rather than stand there secretly wishing she was somewhere else, she tried finding a seat amongst the group of willing, animated students.

She was on the brink of accepting the fact that every seat was filled and insisting that she was better off requesting that she attempt transferring to another class…when she shot a fleeting look again to her right. There, she was met with the sight of an empty chair and one seat over was a blond-haired guy who was twiddling his thumbs. Beside him sat a girl with wavy black hair and also at her table was a guy with the wildest, most kaleidoscopic afro she'd ever stumbled upon. The two were chit chatting, exchanging jokes and generally seemed to be enjoying themselves.

The boy with the blond hair, meanwhile, had stopped fiddling with his thumbs and was now tapping his right foot. It was being aware of her presence and detecting that she was surveying the unoccupied seat that caused him to gently bite his upper lip. It was all he could do to prevent his eyes from gawking, his cheeks from burning tomato red and his legs from knocking. How he succeeded in keeping his astonishment at seeing her at bay, he hadn't the faintest clue.

This didn't mean he wasn't susceptible to letting his mind plunge into a dumbfounded state.

He'd have no problem sinking into such a spellbound trance.

The trouble would be climbing his way back into reality.

The girl watched his behavior with the smallest hint of inquisitiveness, wondering if he similarly preferred to be in some other class. He plainly wasn't as talkative or dynamic as those around him. Where they were all busily chitchatting and marveling at their teacher's distinctive portrayals, he wasn't. The most he'd do is lift his head, glimpse transiently up at the notably scrupulous works on the walls and then wordlessly return his focus to his hands on the table.

That…and stare in wonderment at her as she stared back.

 _Maybe he hates art just as much as I do?_ she thought hopefully. _With this many people, I can't be the only one. He sure doesn't seem as excited_ _as everyone else. Guess I'm not the only one who's here when they don't want to be. Least I'm not the only one._

Peeta knew he couldn't go on eyeballing her for the fear that she'd regard him as some kind of can't-take-my-eyes-off-you creep. So as casually as he could, he dropped his fixated gaze, lowered his head and pretended to be focused on his hands, the table, his stuffed book bag on the floor, his double-knotted shoelaces, something, anything at all. It didn't matter what his eyes fell on so long as they weren't staring keenly and nervously at her.

His eyes might have been working hastily to keep distracted with tables, laces and fingers, but he could hear her approaching footsteps drawing steadily nearer. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her clear as day heading towards him... and the empty seat next to him. With each step she took, she was growing one step closer to him and the closer she got, the more it was sounding as if she was treading on breakable glass and not on a polished, concrete floor. Of course that wasn't the case, but he was so utterly delighted and flabbergasted that he wasn't hearing things for what they truly were.

A surge of exhilaration could ignite this, as he was now recognizing.

The uninterrupted clicking of the clock's shifting hands was more like a booming, the ongoing conversations more like vague rumbling and his own beating heart an intense pounding that could have belonged to that of a giant. In addition to perceiving these kinds of sounds, he wasn't convinced he wasn't thinking all that properly either.

Amid all the inexplicable racket dancing in his ears, one thing was all too palpable.

Katniss Everdeen was just a few steps shy of claiming the seat next to him and all could make sense of was the one overriding thought emerging in his mind.

She's in my class?

Those four words were bouncing vigorously from one section of his consciousness to another.

She's…in…my…class.

 _She's in my class!_ Astounded, speechless and over the moon were all ideal descriptions that summed up where his restless emotions stood. _I've never even really gotten to_ _talk to her before but now she's here! In…my…class! Oh man…I hope she won't mind sitting next to me. Wait, did I forget deodorant? No, no worries there. You smell fine. But I won't if I start sweating! Okay, just relax Mellark. Don't make her feel awkward and while you're at it, try not to make yourself feel too awkward. Don't need both of us feeling awkward. Be calm and friendly. Friendly and calm._

He let his mind drift back to elementary school when the two had been in every class together all the way up to sixth grade. Time and again he'd noticed her – in class reviewing notes, roaming in the halls, out by the playground with the swings, twisting slide, monkey bars and jungle gym, chuckling with her little sister on their way home – and he'd continuously wanted so badly to walk up and introduce himself…but he hadn't. His nerves had controlled him and in the midst of his incessant struggling, it had occurred to him that he was a prisoner, shackled to his own tension. Each year resulted in an additional fruitless and discouraging endeavor of him striving to say 'hi' and all on account of his bundle of nerves. He'd been powerless to conquer his uncertainties and like a dog chained on a leash, there'd been no escaping them.

 _All those years I could have talked to her…but I didn't. Eleven years she was there, yet I didn't say a word to her. I could have, but I didn't. Eleven years!_

Sitting there, he silently vowed not to repeat the same mistake twice.

This would be the year where he'd at last push aside his fears and insecurities and talk to her. It was different when they were young and growing up, so he tried not to be too hard on himself. Saying 'hi' to a girl at the age of five was one of the most challenging undertakings for a boy to fulfill. It was all the more tricky when swarms of butterflies fluttered uncontrollably into his stomach whenever he so much as locked eyes with her.

That had been his complicated past of planning, hesitating, abandonment and stubbornly re-planning…but he wasn't five anymore.

He was sixteen, older, more mature and hovering near the sidelines while hinging on to the hopes that they'd magically meet by chance would accomplish nothing. The odds of that transpiring were about the same as him blossoming into a professional artist in all of one day. He had to work at it and practice and like with Katniss, he wasn't going to be granted his heart's desire if he sat around wallowing in his recurring reflections. If he was determined on budding into a professional painter, then he'd need to pick up a brush and begin experimenting with colors. Likewise, if he hoped to sprout into a dexterous sketcher, then he'd need to grip a pencil and begin experimenting with tones.

There was no difference regarding the scenario with Katniss. If he longed for the two to enter a sprouting friendship, then he'd have to open his mouth and get talking.

It was as straightforward as that, yet it felt strangely difficult.

A more appropriate word would be intimidating.

But no matter how difficult or intimidating it was, no progress would be reached if he didn't dismount from square one. Too long he'd loitered on this platform and if history replayed itself, all he would achieve is frustration.

Frustration on the first day of this glorious class would have dampened the elated mood that had rocketed since he'd woken up at seven o' clock.

It was when she was finally lowering herself onto the vacant seat that a flooding of amazement gushed into him. While she was setting her green-colored bag under the table, he was doing all he could not to erupt right then and there.

 _For crying out loud, she's in your class, Mellark!_ he reiterated, and it was dawning on him how favorable of a position he'd wound up in. _It's perfect. All these years you've sat around being quiet and shy when she's been in basically all of your classes, and now she's in your class again…sitting next to you! Now you've just got to start talking. It's not hard. You know how to do it. Just open your mouth, try not to babble and say hi. Right…that._

He was seconds away from attempting exactly that when Mr. Odair pulled out a pen and sheet of paper.

"Now before we get started, I'm going to do roll call to make sure you're all here. Just raise your hand or say here when I read off your name, and then we'll have some oodles of fun. Better yet, we'll stir up what I like to call some mischief."

 _By mischief, he must mean dumping all the ones who can't draw to save their life in the middle of the room, and then laughing at how klutzy we are,_ contemplated Katniss, tracing her fingers along the denim of her jeans. _Bet I'll be the only one too. These people wouldn't be smiling if they weren't looking forward to this. So then I'm the only one not wanting to be here. Terrific…_

Out of all the classes she'd gone to that day, not one teacher had described their course as being one of mischief. Therefore, it crossed her mind that there was a strong probability she'd be a floundering fish in the dreaded months to come. Comparable to a fish yanked brusquely out of its comfortable dwellings in the infinite seas, she too was on the brink of thrashing wildly. In no time at all, she'd be gasping for oxygen as the complexities of art descended on her, resulting in inevitable suffocation.

She only prayed she was overreacting, and that it wouldn't be so frustratingly intricate. Otherwise, she'd be drowning in the uncharted territory that was art.

"Eleanor Jade?" called Mr. Odair.

"Here."

 _Is she really here?_ mused Peeta, who was still considerably stunned at Katniss Everdeen having entered this classroom. _Or am I going delirious?_

"Layton Nevins?"

"Here."

 _I could be,_ he thought, weighing the odds. _Or maybe it's like when you're in the desert_ _and you see a mirage? You think it's there and want it to be, but it's not._ Back and forth his eyes were flickering from the image of this gray-eyed girl to his bag under the table. Was he hallucinating and dreaming up this too-good-to-be-true circumstance? Was the bizarre phenomenon known as mirages now seizing hold of him and declaring him its next victim?

"Savanna Rowan?"

"Here."

 _But we're not even in the desert!_ Peeta inferred. _How can there be a mirage when we're not in the desert? Don't those illusions only happen when you're hot, tired and drained of your energy? Then it shows you what you want to see?_

"Arlo Fencer?"

"Here."

He looked at Katniss, and then promptly returned his gaze to Mr. Odair who was whizzing through the list of names. Name after name was checked off, but the guy could have been hollering and still they would have flown in one ear and out the other. Peeta was too engaged with distinguishing what was a released figment of his imagination, and what was solid reality.

"Ruby Kirst?"

"Here."

"Nigel Santon?"

"Here." The afro-haired guy raised his hand, and his name was checked off the list.

"Ellen Latwood?"

"Here." Nigel's girlfriend raised her hand and her name too was checked off the list.

"Millie Rose?"

"Here."

"Peeta Mellark?"

 _No, there's no way I'm imagining it,_ thought Peeta assertively. _I can't be! It's not a mirage, illusion or some trick of the mind. And there's no way it's a dream. It's just the shock of her being here. That's all. It's all real and she's really, truly here in this room sitting next to me…isn't she?_

"Is there a Peeta Mellark here?" asked Mr. Odair. He slanted his brows upward and peered expectantly around the room for a raised hand. When he identified none, he was about to mark him absent and proceed further down the list of names, when…

"Here!" a voice shouted a bit too loudly.

Mr. Odair lifted his head and saw the elevated arm of a blond-haired boy in the back row of the room. The guy's eyes were widened and the look on his face was one that pretty well screamed, "No, don't mark me absent! Please? I'm here! See? I'm here and present! See my hand?" He'd been so sidetracked by his own perpetual ponderings that it had slipped his mind there was roll-call being taken.

Amused, the teacher smiled, shook his head and scribbled a checkmark beside the student's name.

"Gotta speak up in my class, Peeta," said Mr. Odair unperturbedly. "Don't wanna be quiet as a mouse." The trace of a smile was still perceptible on his lips, and this was followed by a cordial laugh. As Peeta surveyed the guy's face more closely, it became clear that Finnick Odair was about as laid-back a teacher as a person could ask for. Where Ms. Coin or Mr. Boggs would have been irritated by just this – students miles away in some unseen location – Mr. Odair presented no such reaction.

"Sorry," said Peeta sheepishly. "I…I guess I got distracted."

"No need to apologize." Then, the guy pronounced perkily, "Happens to me all the time!"

Of the forty names recorded on his teacher's checklist, there was all but one name that hadn't yet been noted as present.

"And do we have a Katniss Everdeen here?"

"Here." The last name was checked off the attendance sheet.

"Fabulous!" Mr. Odair exclaimed while slipping the pen back into his pocket. "The whole crew's here and as that's now out of the way, I can happily divulge what your designated task for the hour is."

That was it.

Up till then, Peeta had been wrestling with conflicting notions as to what was reality, and what were fabricated stratagems. He'd grappled and chewed over whether Katniss actually had seated herself next to him, or if his mind was toying with him. Had he been undergoing mirages? Illusions? Hallucinations? Some unexplainable hoax of the everlastingly multifaceted mind?

No.

All of it – Katniss showing up out of the blue in the doorway to Mr. Odair's room, striding over to the unfilled seat beside him, notifying the teacher that she was present – was real.

Gone were any hesitations concerning her being in math, biology, history or English.

She was in art.

From September till June.

In Mr. Odair's class.

And if that alone wasn't mind-bogglingly staggering, she was sitting directly across from him.

 _She's in my class_ , Peeta cogitated. His eyes zeroed in on his feet on the floor and it was then that everything he'd doubted, wished for and wondered about while being in that class was coming into miraculous, translucent focus.

 _Katniss…Everdeen…is…in…my…class!_


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

 **SEPTEMBER**

It took everything in Peeta not to gape at her like a child would to a heavenly ice-cream truck that was chiming and stating, "Come and get your ice-cream!" Soft-serve cones, popsicles and frozen treats in general were a scrumptious, quench-thirsting indulgence on the hottest of days, but he wasn't craving a flavored confection. The ideal season for satisfying one's hunger under the scorching sun had come and gone.

Even if he was in the mood for a zest of mouth-watering tangerine juiciness, it would have rapidly evaporated. Watching a gray-eyed, black-haired, olive-skinned girl would have conquered any growing appetite for water-based snacks.

In simpler terms, there was no way he could crave a summer-favorite treat regardless of what season it was.

How could he when his crush of eleven years had stepped unpredictably into the room?

Without thinking twice, he took a stab at it and nonchalantly turned his head. Instantaneously, she caught his inquiring glance and gave the briefest of a smile before briskly refocusing her attention back to Mr. Odair.

Peeta responded with a sincere smile, but he was now struck with the question of what exactly that smile had meant. What she'd presented him with wasn't that big of a smile; it seemed more that she felt she ought to greet his smile with one of her own, and it had been nothing short of that. He wasn't even sure if she'd recognized him, so it was probable it had been a smile with no feelings attached. Yes, she'd been in mostly all of his classes from elementary till junior high, but not once had the two ever officially engaged in discussion. For all he knew, it might not have even registered with her who this guy at her table was, or how strongly he felt about her. She probably assumed he was some random stranger she'd been forced to sit next to due to that chair being the only one that wasn't in use.

From her perception, odds are there was no disparity between this guy and those scattered around her.

But was there more to the smile he'd just received from her? Smiles, as he'd learned by contrasting them from men to women, to children, to teenagers and to the elderly, could speak volumes. Was it a 'yeah, I'm sitting beside you but don't care to talk to you," type of acknowledgement? Or had the smile been one of shyness and maybe even a trace of…curiosity?

He could only speculate, but he also didn't want to sit there and drive himself crazy debating about it. It would have been pointless, as Katniss was well-known for having a rather complex personality. Her facial expressions were virtually impossible to interpret and one could rarely tell for certain what thoughts were resting in her head. Those were facets she kept hidden in her heart, and finding one's way into her heart would have been somewhat of a hurdle. This girl was an epitome of mystery and for eleven years, Peeta had been hopelessly enthralled by her complicated character. To be able to discover what things were floating throughout her enigmatic mind – how she analyzed predicaments, reached conclusions and felt about everything – was a wish that had stayed with him for years.

Now more than ever he yearned to be accepted into her heart, to see, hear and be told all he'd spent a lifetime ruminating about. Such a puzzle she was to him and all his life envisioned the day he'd try and put the pieces of this unique girl – the girl he'd loved since forever – together and discern just what kind of person Katniss Everdeen was.

Perhaps that wonderful day was within reach.

However long it would take for that day to arrive or if it would even arrive at all, Peeta couldn't go on dwelling on it. He had to snap out of it, tuck them away in the back of his mind and immerse himself in what his teacher had referred to as being 'the show that's tenth grade art.'

After all, that was why he was there.

Mr. Odair was now busy handing out eight-and-a-half-by-eleven-inch sheets of papers to each table. Along with these, he supplied each desk with a couple of impeccably sharpened pencils and rubber erasers.

"Now since it's only day one," their teacher explained. "We'll start off with what I think is a fairly simple, but enjoyable activity. I've heard former students mention it as being amusing and I'm positive more than a few of you will concur with them. I'd be amazed to not hear some chuckles by the end of the class. In terms of starting off with the basics, as the year progresses and your competence expands, assignments will become significantly grander in scale as we'll be covering more sophisticated styles and approaches to art. By the end of the year, we'll have discussed and practiced still life with oil pastels, tissue collages, charcoal landscapes, reflective silhouettes, surrealism, mask making, fiber art and so much more. But for now, we'll take baby steps till we're farther along in our path. Firstly, I'd like everybody to find themself a partner."

At once, partners began forming. Those who knew someone didn't need to get up as they were already sitting next to a friend or person they were acquainted with. Others who'd entered the class not knowing anybody quickly chose at random. As with any project that entailed teamwork, it was better to just join up with anyone as opposed to waiting for the teacher to select a teammate for them. Since there were precisely forty students in the class, there'd be twenty groups of two and so nobody would be left without a partner.

Peeta knew instantly who he wanted as a partner for two reasons. One, because none of his friends had chosen to complete their credit in art this year, and wouldn't be doing so till they advanced into grade eleven or twelve. And secondly, it was obvious Katniss didn't know anyone. Considering that she hadn't waved, smiled or given any indication that she'd be joining a friend in tenth grade art, she'd been placed in a class of unfamiliar faces.

To be stuck in this kind of situation, she did what any person would have naturally which was to sit there noiselessly. Automatically, her eyes began darting from table to table and the awkwardness that had surfaced just recently was worse than ever. It wasn't so much that she disliked the idea of attempting a task on her own, as she was capably independent in all things school-related. It was more to do with the likelihood that teaming up with someone skilful and art-loving could relieve any apprehensions she had about unsuccessfully passing the class. If she could examine how a work of art was fashioned, how one shaded and sketched, painted and blended colors into a dazzling puddle, there was a chance she'd grasp some helpful tips.

Noticing how she was awkwardly glimpsing around, it was then Peeta decided he'd take his chances and speak up. The last thing he'd want was Katniss believing no one cared to team up with her because he most certainly did. He was just worried his nerves would come flooding back, and would get in the way of him trying to eliminate any discomfort and put her at ease. What if he broke out stuttering and only managed to make a fool out of himself? What if she regarded him as a jabbering, annoying idiot who spoke words of gibberish?

But thinking that negatively was a waste of time.

He couldn't afford to think like that, or else he'd never muster up the nerve to talk to her.

 _Remember Peeta_ , he repeated. _Calm and friendly…friendly and calm. Just open your mouth and let the words come out. Piece of cake._

"Want to be partners?" he smiled, praying she'd think he was friendly enough. In his mind, he gave a soundless sigh of relief that he hadn't faltered or chickened out. He'd done exactly what he'd aimed to do which was to keep composed and sociable. Maybe sliding into conversation with Katniss wouldn't be as tough of a challenge as he'd so frequently feared it would be. It may well have been as clear-cut as opening his mouth and letting the words handle the rest.

With a small, casual nod that was faintly perceptible, she answered, "Okay."

 _So far so good,_ thought Peeta, whose face was on the verge of lighting up in heightened joy. _It's a start anyway!_

Before he had time to think about much else, she shifted her head and flashed him an enquiring look. He strived to resist the intensifying urge to do the same, but it wasn't viable. How could he sit there with not a care in the world when her magnetic, gray-as-stone eyes were glued to him? His mind would have been driven up-the-wall-insane if he attempted ignoring her, so he didn't bother with that.

Besides, there was no evading the dramatically amplified thumping in his heart. If there was one thing he was incapable of disregarding, it was the whisperings that went on in his heart.

When their eyes met, the intricate wheels in Katniss's mind were set in motion. Resembling the fine-tuned mechanics of a clock, they rotated on some concealed track and brought forth recognizable images. Her conscious was now rewinding back to several years earlier to a time when she was a child. A pool of transparent pictures swam in the section of her brain where she stored all her memories.

She noticed a boy her own age sauntering down the hall of Saybrook Elementary, his hands tucked comfortably into the pockets of his sweater. Passing by him, he glanced back and then with the tiniest frown, carried on down the bustling corridor. In a swirl of dancing colors that clouded her vision, the hallway winked out, as did the blond-haired boy and gathered students. Now she was sprawled out on the expanse of grass outside the school, lounging about with her eight-year-old sister. The two were on their backs, laughing and gazing up at the continuous sequence of clouds that glided across the vastness of the sky. Rolling onto her side, she spotted a blue-eyed boy strolling out the entrance doors, a heavily-loaded bag hitched over his shoulder. He locked eyes with the gray-eyed girl and with a weight of regret roosting on his shoulders, started for home.

Like a movie on rerun, scenes of the past rushed back to her in a haze of shapes, colors and faces – hearing him recite a poem about a setting sun, glancing to her left to see him crafting chalk illustrations on the sidewalk. She saw him nibbling on a feast of homemade cookies under a cluster of pine trees, struggling to solve an algebraic equation on the whiteboard in front of his classmates and chatting with his friends in the cafeteria during lunch.

On the opposite end, while all this was unraveling in Katniss's head, Peeta was speculating a number of things.

 _Would she prefer to not work in pairs?_

 _Does she not want to be in this class?_

 _Is there somebody else she'd rather be partnered with?_

 _Does she not want to sit with me?_

 _Would she…_

Then…the most incredible sight he could have ever hoped to witness happened.

Something must have triggered in her brain that made it click for her who the guy sitting next to her was. Whether it was that she recalled having previously seen those crystal blue eyes or blond hair that fell in smooth waves over his forehead, the result was the same. It had finally sunk in for her who this guy was. The pieces of the gigantic, multilayered puzzle were joining together.

"You're…you're Peeta, right?" she asked, a bit quietly.

Peeta provided her with a cordial smile and nodded. "That's me," she heard him reply. _She remembers who I am! I kept wondering if maybe she'd forgotten who I was but she knows who I am!_

"Sorry I didn't recognize you right away," she pronounced with an apologetic shrug.

Peeta could distinguish just by her tone that she was undergoing a sense of slight embarrassment at not having been able to extract from her memories who this guy was. She'd been in mostly all of his classes over the years but as the two had socialized only in their own realm of friends, they'd been invisible to each other. He didn't want her dealing with even a tad of discomfiture though, so he felt no hesitation in speaking up.

His intention was to eradicate the awkwardness that was so manifestly showing on her face.

"Oh, you don't have to apologize," he told her sincerely. The fact that she'd remembered both his face and name was enough to lift him to remarkable heights and transport him swiftly to cloud nine. For the longest time he'd lived with the unremitting trepidation that he was all but a fly on the wall or wallpaper itself to Katniss, but she'd just proven him wrong. "I…I know we haven't really talked or anything over the years, so it's okay if you didn't recognize me. It's probably hard to remember someone you've never really spoken to. I'm not much of a familiar face."

 _I'm just happy you're remembering me now,_ thought Peeta dreamily. A joyful, pensive smile that only he could perceive was forming in his crowded mind. _Eleven years of never talking and now we're actually having our first conversation!_ _Well, not so much a conversation but who knows? It could lead to one!_

Their brief discussion was cut short by Mr. Odair who was now standing in the dead center of the room. His hands were placed firmly on his hips and both feet were just as firmly rooted to the ground. All eyes were trained on him, awaiting the broadcast of his plan for day one of the fall semester.

"What I'd like you all to produce for this class," their teacher proclaimed. "Is a portrait of the person you're sitting with. Now don't worry. There's no reason to panic. I'm not expecting precision or talent here, as those arise with time. A lot of students that first dive into art are beginners, and I've even seen some that have never used a paintbrush in their life. The fundamental purpose of this class is divided into three objectives which are to educate those who are new in developing their abilities, those who are familiar already with art, and those who seek to improve what expertise they've possessed from their own practicing."

"What if it turns out, uh…really bad?"

"There is no bad in the world of art," he assured them. Clasping one of the pencils on the table facing him, he held it up and admired it for the ancient treasure it was. "Similarly, nor is there perfection. Such flawlessness is unachievable, and I don't want any of you fretting over a piece you claim to be awful. Bad and perfection are nonexistent, so trust me when I advise you not to go labeling what you've produced as perfect or bad. Not a single one of you is bad and likewise, not a single one of you is perfect, nor will you ever emerge as perfect. What I'll be searching for with this assignment is to figure out where each of you stands in relation to your artistic awareness. If your portrait resembles that of a frog or a toad with warts and all, no problem. Like I said, I'm not going to be illustrating concepts to you till tomorrow's lesson. All I want from you today is for you to demonstrate to me how much or how little you know about art. If you haven't had any exposure, then this is your golden opportunity to get your feet wet. For everyone else, take advantage of this exercise to jog your memory of what know-how you've acquired, and what skills you're hoping to ultimately obtain. Once you've helped me with that, then we'll move into the fun stuff and throw ourselves a party. Sound good?"

Most reacted with nods of their heads while some replied with answers of, "Yeah." There was no arguing that Mr. Odair was undoubtedly one of the coolest, funniest and most laid-back teachers in the school. It was rare to ever hear him raising his voice or scolding a student; it was just as uncommon to see him arriving at work with a frown. When he marched through the doors of Madderson High, he strode in with poise and with the same eager, sparkling smile he wore out in public.

"Great! Now you've got a full fifty minutes, so take your time with it. There's no need to rush. If anyone has any questions, I'll be up here at my desk. And remember, these aren't being graded, so have fun with it! I don't want to hear any grumbling or complaining in this class, alright? I'm not a man of many rules but there is one I emphasize and that's to enjoy what you're doing and not sit there slouching like a slug!" This earned some amused chuckles from a few students to which Mr. Odair grinned widely at.

"Two more announcements I'd like to make," he continued. "Feel free to help yourselves to the sugar cubes I've placed on the tables. I know teachers don't normally give out treats to their students but I've got a whole whack of them and I've just got to share them. Now I can't go loading your guts with sugar every day. If the teachers found out, that wouldn't go over too well. Not to mention your stomachs would bust. A few days each month will have to suffice and as it's your first day here, what better way to spend it than sketching and snacking? So please, don't be shy. I wouldn't want them all to go to uneaten, and keep in mind what I said about grousing. Any complaints and there'll be no sugar snacking. But I know that's not gonna be an issue as you're all gonna be magnificent students and just as great of artists."

 _So they are to eat!_ thought Peeta, immediately contented and thankful to no longer be upstairs in math or biology. _No way Coin or Boggs would have given us treats. Their definition of fun is piling on hours of homework. We're not even one week into school and we're expected to review and memorize all parts of a cell, and know how to add and subtract variables all by tomorrow? Thank goodness for Mr. Odair. This guy's a lifesaver! All hail the King of Sugar Cubes and long live tenth grade art!_

He wasted no time in lifting the cube of sugar to his lips and popping it into his mouth. The sweet crystals diffused and left a luscious, tingling sensation on his tongue that lingered for only a few precious seconds. Despite that it was the first day of class, already he was liking both the class and the outstanding teacher.

Turning his head slightly, he saw Katniss had popped the delicious treat into her mouth as well. She wasn't smiling though or exhibiting any signs that she was so far enjoying the class. No matter, he didn't want to spend too long making an effort to decode her expressions. That, and he also didn't want her catching him observing her like a spy on a classified mission.

Hence, it would be wise to not let his eyes do too much roaming.

"And," declared Mr. Odair. "I'm sure you'll all concur with me that music of all genres is to be appreciated, as it motivates the human psyche. Year after year, I've had students tell me that what relieved their strain while prepping for exams was music. And in a class like this, what better tool to assist us in our journey of visualizing and creating? I assume just like myself that you'll find as you voyage into the world of art that music can do so many things – stimulate, soothe, offer suggestions and help you find your way. For each class, I'll play a different song that can help guide you in uncovering the artist within. What I find interesting is how every student depicts the meanings behind the sounds and lyrics so differently. Twenty students can hear the identical song but how they construe that song and how they incorporate that into their work can vary greatly."

When he'd returned to his desk and opened the song on his computer, he clicked play and said while restacking his papers, "Today's song is titled Little Heaven, and it's by Todd the Wet Sprocket. I think you'll see it as a fitting song to start off the semester, and our first class. And don't forget, you're not all going to hear this song in a similar way. Listen to what your mind, ears and heart are hearing as those will be the leading factors that send you on your way."

All Peeta could think as the sound flowed into his ears was: _let day one of art class begin._

He helped himself to one of the sheets of paper, a pencil and asked Katniss enthusiastically, but with a touch of shyness, "Mind if I go first?"

Her only response was to give a silent nod, and then avert her eyes back to the paper and pencil in front of her. Peeta hadn't any idea if Katniss even liked drawing or not, but figured it didn't hurt to ask to go first. If she wasn't a fan of drawing, then it would hopefully alleviate any nervousness she had about having to illustrate a representation of his face.

Seeing that she wasn't removing her adamant gaze from the table pretty much indicated that she was not comfortable with artsy topics. He understood quite well that sketching could be a frustratingly gradual process for those who had yet have a stab at it. At one point in his life, he too had suffered through that same irritation, impatience and disappointment. For Katniss, it would be like treading on shaky ground and no matter how cautiously she moved, still she'd feel that inescapable fear of the floor crumbling beneath her. It was the same with art – the longer and harder you fought to attain perfection, the more annoyed you'd find yourself at realizing that perfection was unattainable.

 _Maybe if I go first, it'll make her less nervous about having to sketch me? Then again, maybe it won't matter if I go first or not. Maybe she'll be nervous anyway. I just hope if she doesn't like drawing, she won't be too nervous._

"So you don't mind me going first?"

Katniss slid the paper and pencil off to the side and stretched her arms out along the length of the desk. "No. It'd probably be better if you went first," she rejoined. "I'm not that good at drawing. It's not really my thing and just my luck, you would turn out like a frog."

 _So I was right. She doesn't like drawing_ , thought Peeta at the confirmation, but then speculated more inquisitively, _I wonder if I can change that for her? Maybe she's never had someone show her enjoyable and rewarding art can be and all she thinks is that it's impossibly hard? Maybe I should just stop thinking so much and talk to her._

"No way you'd draw me as a frog," he said reassuringly. "There's only one thing that could be able to properly portray me as an amphibian and that's a frog. People don't know frogs as well as frogs do, right? Same with toads."

"You haven't seen me draw though," she countered with a shake of her head. "I'm ten bars below average."

"What if I lent you a hand?" he offered kindly. "Then you won't have to worry about me turning out like a frog?"

She sighed under her breath and shot back with little enthusiasm, "Fine, but I'm still not a good drawer. Of all the people in the school, there can't be a person worse than me. I make straight lines look like squiggles. Ask me to draw a circle and it'll be a quarter of a circle."

"That's okay," he told her, smiling warmly. "At least you can just sit there a while and do nothing. Sitting there like a statue should be easy, right?"

"Let's hope," was all she said.

"Bet you'll be a better statue than I will."

Peeta chuckled jokingly, hoping to put her at ease and not make her first day in high school art out-and-out suck. The last thing he'd want was for her to walk out after the hour and conclude that not only was the class tedious, but he was just as equally boring.

To his uttermost relief, she returned his smile with one of her own. She then directed her attention to the back of the classroom where the smile vanished from her lips. It had disappeared from her face as quickly as it had come into view. Peeta feared this smile had been an act and all she wanted was to avoid any form of eye contact with him, but then it became clear what she was doing. She was posing. The upturned corners of her lips had dropped and its place was a fixed expression, consisting of stillness and composure. She had effortlessly taken on the role of a seemingly lifeless statuette. The steady movements of her chest as she inhaled and exhaled and the blinking of her eyes were the only two reminders that she wasn't a statue. Other than that, her entire face was now motionless and ready to be sketched.

Peeta picked up his pencil and twirled it lazily, musingly between his fingers. So many times he'd held a pencil but it was at that moment that he felt more driven than ever to give rise to a solid masterpiece. The time had now come to assemble all the familiarity he'd so far gained with art. All the hours he'd spent alone in his room sprawled out on his bed while doodling away could now be integrated into this very portrait.

In eleven years, not once had Katniss witnessed him transform lines and shapes into animals, landscapes, abstract visuals and people from all walks of life. But they were now sitting side by side in high school and Peeta was more than ready to reveal to her the undying passion he'd had for art since he was a kid.

He positioned the paper directly in front of him and lowered his pencil so the tip was just a few inches away from the blank sheet. He shot her a thoughtful look and instructed, _okay, Mellark. Just think of this as another cake. Another cake you're frosting at home. Another cake that'll go on display in the window. Just another every day cake…but the most fabulous, beautiful cake you've ever done. No pressure._

Gripping the pencil securely between his fingers, he gradually brought it down to the paper…and began to draw. Mr. Odair had informed them they'd have the full class to complete it, so he had close to thirty minutes to contrive a portrait that hopefully mirrored Katniss Everdeen.

One of the reasons he'd been so suited for frosting cakes in the bakery was because unlike his two brothers, he worked with a much steadier hand. Where they'd consistently lose focus or their movements would turn sloppy, clumsy and hasty, Peeta's repeatedly proved stable. Even in stress or when time wasn't on his side, still he was able to maintain a steady hand and this explained why he was so skilled with decorating cakes – he didn't crack under pressure. Consistent yelling in the background, doors slamming, pots, pans and utensils clattering to the floor in a heaping mess or Rye repetitively poking him in the arm hadn't been able to sidetrack him. Whatever was unfolding in his surroundings, he'd act as if it was all occurring in his head and not in his realm of art.

He was now applying that same, unwavering focus to his sketch of Katniss, keeping the pencil in his hand and his eyes on her. Not only was it crucial to block out distractions, but it was imperative to have control over the way his hand moved across the page. It was vital he kept everything smooth and relaxed and not let his hand generate a distinctive mind of its own. As the artist, he was the one in command of what streaks and contours went where and what portions of the face were to be shaded more heavily.

As he was outlining the imaginary planes and the form of her oval-shaped face, he found himself getting intrigued and swept up by the sounds of _Little Heaven_. As was so recurrently the case when song after song could play into his ears, he felt as if he was leaving reality and landing in some musical place. The tone and way the lyrics were strung together in such a memorable sequence made it seem like it belonged to a separate world. There were so many adjectives he could use to describe the music that was _Little Heaven_ – bold, hypnotic enchanting and delightfully catchy.

 _I could doze off to that_ , thought Peeta, his eyes still fixed intently on the paper. _Good thing I'm wide awake and not about to nod off like Marvel did in Math. How else would this portrait get done if I went and did that?_

When he was nearly halfway through his sketch of Katniss, he asked, "So what do you think of the song?"

Listening momentarily to the ending lyric of the chorus, she shrugged. "I kind of like it," she admitted.

"Me too," he agreed, touching up the overall outline to her face. "It's funny. I find the music helps keeps me focused but then at the same time, I feel like I'm drifting off, you know? There was a temporary pause as he dissected the sketched lines that constituted her face. He then added thoughtfully, "I like the sound of it though. Soft…but exciting. I feel like I'd doze off right now if I wasn't in the middle of sketching you. Kind of need to stay awake for that."

Katniss nodded and proceeded to watch the portrait of her flower into existence. The features had yet to be penciled in, but based on what he'd drawn thus far, he'd have no trouble inserting those.

"That looks really good," she commented, arching her brows in fascination at his progress. "I know it's not done and all but that looks just like my face."

Posing like a statue entailed her to be stock-still and move not even a muscle, but her eyes were fastened on Peeta's sketch, which was coming along beautifully. Up till then, she hadn't known how comprehensive an activity drawing was but she now did thanks to Peeta Mellark. To sit down and assimilate how a blank sheet of paper could receive such an outstanding transformation wasn't a process she'd ever observed up close. It was mind-boggling to see how a jumble of lines that initially looked so out of place could wind up revealing a staggeringly realistic face. What was even more astounding was that such an impressive portrait was being crafted by the hands of a sixteen-year-old boy. If she hadn't a clue what age he was, she would have presumed it had been illustrated by a guy at least in his twenties with years of experience.

"Glad you think so," he said appreciatively, beaming at her genuine compliment. "Now I just have to fill in your hair, brows, eyes, nose, mouth and ears and you'll be done!" _Note to self: avoid frog-like or toad-like qualities._

He paused temporarily, and then with the faintest of a grin, joked lightheartedly, "Sure you don't want any warts?"

"No," she said starkly.

"Got it," he replied, failing to suppress a giggle of immediate amusement. _Frogs and toads are so not happening._

Like frosting the cakes in the bakery at home, Peeta was able to keep his movements steady while positioning his hand over the paper with great attentiveness. With each passing minute, the face of Katniss was slowly but surely beginning to show, the resemblance it shared with the real face becoming more discernible. He'd already completed the multiple proportions of her face – first, second, third and final quarters – and was considerably happy with how it had turned out.

As he often did while frosting cakes, he made sure not to forget necessary details, as those were what truly helped bring the image to life. He captured the fullness of her lips, the evident darkness of her brows and the mesmeric gray in her eyes that spun him in circles. With respect to the eyes, he placed emphasis on the pupil, iris, sclera and caruncle. He also made sure to take into account the difference in shape between the upper and lower eyelids, and how the upper eyelid covered the top of the iris. These were details he'd grown to appreciate as he'd developed as an aspiring artist, and he'd been embracing these characteristics ever since.

When it came to sketching the glassy surface of the eyes themselves, he didn't forget to include the many tones and flecks that radiated to the pupil's center. Just as much time he spent replicating the delicate hairs of her brows.

The final aspect of Katniss's face that he paid particular attention to was her mouth. He used tone to help soften the edges, refine any details and finished by highlighting the skin's surface texture.

When the portrait had reached completion, he set down his pencil, picked up the paper and took a closer look at what he'd sketched in half an hour. A quick examination told him that like his former sketches, this one was proving just as fulfilling. But the harder he stared, the more he believed that this very well could have been the most impressive sketch he'd ever done. It was a resplendent piece that had been thoroughly formulated with the steadiness that had come from years of adorning cakes.

Still, no matter how improved it was in comparison to what he'd drawn as a child, Peeta was always one to point out flaws. Even at the age of six he'd been like that and ten years later, his eye for identifying missing components hadn't gone anywhere. Revaluating and not settling on the belief that a work of art was impeccable was how he'd finalized his works. He felt it made sketching even more engaging. Rather than incessantly try and pull off immaculateness that would require further analysis, he could be searching for methods to make his work shine even brighter.

The way he saw it, there was always room for improvement.

 _Not bad, Mellark, not bad,_ he thought but what with the critic he was, jumped ahead to underline the teeniest spots that could have been revisited. _A bit more shading near the eyes could have been done, and a few more curved around the nose, but that's okay. I just hope she likes it! Or at least doesn't think it makes her look bad. Oh man…here all this time I was worrying over not making her feel uncomfortable but it never even crossed my mind would she might think of it! Well, guess there's only one way to find out. Here goes…_


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

 **SEPTEMBER**

Peeta slid the paper over to her and asked her nonchalantly, but with a touch of increasing shyness, "What do you think? Not too bad?"

Katniss took the paper and stared closely at it for a long, hard moment. Peeta watched her inquisitively – his mind reeling and leaping to assumptions – and couldn't help feel convinced that she hated it. He was all set for her to tell him it was the worst she'd ever seen and that what he'd sketched on the paper looked nothing like her even in the slightest. He was pleasantly surprised when she looked back at him...and smiled. Not expecting sort of a reaction, he had to keep from opening his mouth in stupefied shock at the simple, yet exhilarating fact that she was smiling at him. Here he'd jumped the gun by presuming she wanted nothing more than to rip his portrait apart but no way she'd go and do a thing like that when she wore a smile on her face.

"Not too bad?" she exclaimed, eyes once more glued to the sketch. "Peeta, I've never seen anyone draw like this. It looks just like me. The shape of my face, the hair, my eyes, all the details...you got it spot on. You sure you're not an expert or something?"

Peeta smiled and replied, "Thanks. I'll take that as a compliment." _She thinks I'm an expert? That's about the best compliment she could have given me. I thought she'd just tell me it's okay or not too bad but...expert! Did she really say that, or am I just hoping she did?_

He gestured to the paper and pencil in front of her and told her, still smiling, "Alright, your turn."

"This is gonna end bad," she muttered, putting the pencil in her hands. Peeta could tell right away that Katniss was even unsure of how she was grasping her pencil, as if she thought there was an exact right way to hold one when it came to drawing. She tightened her hold on the pencil slightly, readjusted her fingers till they felt comfortable and in the right place and then added, "Just so you know, you're probably gonna look like a stick man so don't expect much more than that."

Peeta burst out laughing and said kindly, "Aww...I'm sure you're not _that_ bad."

"Oh, trust me, I am," was her quick response. "I've never been good at drawing but when it comes to people, I just can't get it right. They always turn out a mess."

"Well, if you're worried about making me look like a stick man, just make it a lot bigger than that. Make my arms and legs bigger than they'd be on a stick person. That way I'll look more like a person with flesh and skin and shape and all that."

"That's some great advice," she commented sarcastically, but with an amused laugh.

"Youdid say I was an expert," he explained, just as amused. "Well, that's my expert advice. Pretty great, eh?"

"Fantastic," was her answer.

"Thanks."

He added this last part with a goofy grin, which she couldn't help shake her head at as if he were being ridiculously, but humorously silly. Now Peeta had to keep himself from smiling, but that wasn't as easy as Katniss had made it seem when he'd been sketching her. She was all ready to begin sketching, when she noticed Peeta's lips were quivering. He wasn't sure why he was having such a difficult time keeping quiet, but everything she'd just said about Peeta ending up looking like a stick man was so comical that it was useless trying not to laugh. All he could picture was himself as a stick man and that image alone was enough to set him off. As Katniss was about to see, the tiniest things were often what sent Peeta into a full blown laugh attack.

"Sorry, sorry," he apologized, letting out a laugh. "Okay, I'll stop."

"Everything all right back there?" Mr. Odair asked. He was casually leaning back in his chair and glancing over at them as if to say, "What's so funny?" A few students had even stopped what they were doing to glance in their direction with that same look that had a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

Peeta looked over and answered back, "Yeah, everything's fine."

"You can't keep laughing, Peeta," insisted Katniss seriously, and the expression on her face was just as serious."I don't want to do an even worse job and you're not helping much. You gotta stop laughing so much, or else thiswill be the worst portrait I've ever done. Help me out a bit, okay?"

"No, I'm sorry," he said honestly, but it was obvious he wasstill holding back a huge grin. Somehow though, he was able to keep from breaking out laughing completely and put on a serious face. "Let's get that portrait started then, shall we?"

Peeta could tell right off the bat that Katniss wasn't a drawer. It was clear that she'd never spent much time using a pencil and paper, let alone enrolling in art classes or attempting to teach herself the basics of drawing. She was unsure with a lot of her strokes and when she came to shading in various parts of his face, she'd just stare blankly at the page as if thinking, _what_ _now_ _?_ The page, of course, never gave an answer. It remained just as blank, silent and unhelpful as it had before she'd even begun sketching, and it was all but frustrating.

Despite her lack of talent with sketching, she did her best and put in as much effort as she could and that was enough to make Peeta wonder if _she_ was just as determined to create an alright portrait of him as _he'd been_ to make one of her. When her eyes left Peeta and fell onto the paper in front of her, there was a look of pure concentration that was impossible to overlook. This left Peeta both intrigued and confused; it seemed like she wasn't a fan of art, yet she was clearly putting in a great amount of focus into this particular portrait. Maybe she knew how clumsy and amateurish of an artist she was and didn't want Peeta to think she was the worst in the world? It made no difference to Peeta, though. He wasn't the kind of guy who went around criticizing people's creations. Just the fact that she was trying her best was enough to make him happy. No matter how skilled or unskilledany of Katniss's works turned out, he'd always appreciate the effort she put into presenting him with the best she could do.

Finally, when thirty minutes was up and class was starting to end, she dropped her pencil and slid the paper towards him. He picked it up eagerly, looked it over and told her, "I'd say that looks like me."

It was true that his eyes were a little more wide spread than they should have been and his hair wasn't as thick as it could have been and his nose was just a tad bit larger than it was, but there was no mistaking that the person that had been drawn on the paper was Peeta Mellark. He was actually very impressed that she'd done such a great job, especially considering that she'd hardly done much drawing in her life.

"Really?" she asked, surprised and with a touch of embarrassment. "Because it looks pretty bad to me."

Peeta gave her a friendly smile and argued, "You might think so, but I don't. And whether you think it's good or not, you got my smile spot on." There was no denying the fact that she'd captured his smile perfectly. From his own personal perspective, no one could have done a better job.

She shrugged and said, "Well, _that's_ good. Maybe it's not the worst thing after all. At least I got something on your face right."

"No way," he shot back, putting his portrait next to hers. "I'd say we did pretty well. For the first class, anyway." He then gave a coy, pleasant smile and suggested, "How about we give ourselves an A for effort?"

She nodded and said, "Okay, but if anyone deserves an A it's _you_ , not me. My drawing's not even half as good as yours."

"We're partners, Katniss, remember?" he reminded her, not dropping his smile. "We _both_ get an A. If I get an A, you get an A. It's the team effort that's important and—"

"Okay!" she said putting her hands up in surrender while letting out a laugh. "We both get an A. Happy?"

"Yes," said Peeta, contented.

Now that class was over and all the portraits had been put away, it was time to head home. Most students were already at their lockers and hurrying off to catch the bus. Peeta's locker was at the back end of the school right next to the art rooms, which he absolutely loved. If there was anywhere in the school he'd like to be close to, it was the art rooms, since he figured he'd be spending so much time in there.

He was just grabbing his math book and putting it in his bag when he noticed Katniss a few lockers over. His first reaction was one of shock. Was her locker only a few lockers over from his? The shock then instantly turned into a realization of joy that their lockers were so close together. It meant they'd be seeing each other more than just in the hour of art every day.

 _Now we can really start talking_! he thought excitedly. _Maybe since our lockers are pretty much right next to each other's, she won't mind talking to me once in a while. I've never had my locker this close to her's before. First we end up in the same class and now both our lockers are by the art rooms? I've got every opportunity right in front of me to talk to her! Now's not the time to be shy Mellark. Now's the time to open your mouth and start talking to her. Well, here goes..._

"Hey," Peeta called to her. "Your locker's by the art rooms too?"

Katniss finished putting her books into her bag, shut her locker and then threw her green bag over her shoulder before turning to face him. To his relief, she didn't even look surprised or awkward to see him. He wondered if maybe she wouldn't mind sharing a locker so close to his as there was always the option of requesting to have a different locker. He'd hate to think that she'd ask for a different locker so as to be closer to her friends as not once in his three years of junior high had his locker been so close to hers.

"Yeah," she said. "Kind of wish it was more near the front of the school though. I was a bit late though when I went and asked for a locker, so all they could give me was one near the art rooms. All the ones at the front of the school were already taken. I kept thinking that waiting the last minute wouldn't be that big of a deal, but I guess it was because there isn't a single locker left."

"Could be worse," he offered, trying to sound optimistic. What he was really attempting to do was try and sound positive for her, as in his own mind he was on top of the world at knowing they'd be running into one another before, after and in between classes. "Better than no locker at all."

"That's true," she admitted, and he could sense that his optimism had cheered her up slightly.

She then glimpsed down at her feet, and Peeta felt like she was getting hit with some unexpected wave of, what...shyness? Awkwardness? Confusion? He tried reading her face, but it was so much like a puzzle that he could hardly begin to guess at what she was thinking. For so long he'd tried to figure out her expressions and what they were suggesting, but for eleven years he'd failed at coming even close to having an idea of what went on in her complicated mind.

 _Just keep things simple, Mellark_ , he told himself while working to keep his nerves under control. The last thing he wanted was to create an awkward silence where the two could think of nothing to say and she'd have no choice but to leave him and head for home. _Just make an easy, light conversation that won't make her nervous. Keep it simple._

"So how did you like class?" asked Peeta brightly. "Art class, I mean?"

"It's okay, but art's just not my thing," said Katniss, and gave a shrug. "I didn't really want to take it, but I kind of have to, so I don't really have an option. But I can tell it's _your_ thing. I bet you're gonna love it."

"Hey, you might too," he offered enthusiastically. "I could even help you out a bit if you want. We could maybe work on some projects and stuff together. I've always wanted to teach someone to draw, since it sometimes gets a little boring working by myself all the time. I wouldn't mind helping you out, i-if you wouldn't mind of course."

"That sounds good," said Katniss. "I _could_ use a bit of help with drawing. I'd kind of like to come out of this class with something higher than a C."

"No problem," said Peeta. "You said math was your thing, right?"

"Yeah," she answered. "It's definitely my thing more than art, anyway."

"I'd love to have some help with math," he told her. "First topic of the year is algebra—" and here a frown crossed his face as if he'd just swallowed a mouthful of rotting Brussels sprouts, and he uttered, "Ugh..."

Katniss laughed at this and said with a shrug, "Algebra's not that hard. Just gotta practice. I actually find it one of the easier topics in math. I've always found word problems kind of hard but even those get easier with practice. But algebra's not that hard."

"Neither is drawing," Peeta threw in, then smiled and went on repeating what she'd just finished saying, "Just got to practice."

She rolled her eyes, still laughing.

He offered her his hand and asked seriously, "How about this: I'll help _you_ with art and you can help _me_ with math. Deal?"

Katniss didn't take his hand right away. For a few seconds that felt like a lifetime to Peeta, she seemed to be thinking it over, as if she was wondering if she ought to agree to it.

 _S-she doesn't want to,_ thought Peeta at once, and felt instantly crushed. _I should have known though. I've barely ever talked to her._ It had taken a lot for him just to work up the nerve to ask her if she'd like some help with art, but it looked as if his efforts had been unsuccessful. It was even harder for him to keep from letting a frown cross his face, but he was somehow able to keep his face calm.

To Peeta's surprise though, she took his hand, gave it what he took to be a firm shake and said, "Deal."

"Awesome!" said Peeta excitedly. _She does want to! Here I thought she'd think the idea was silly but she actually agreed to us helping each other! Calm down, Peeta. Don't let your smile take up your whole face. Act cool about it. Don't let your face explode._ "Looks like we're both set then. You're getting an A in art and I'm getting an A in math. Can't get much better than that."

"Oh, so we're getting A's, are we?" she asked.

"Sure," said Peeta with confidence. "You're an expert in math and I'm in expert in art, right? So if we're helping each other, than there's no reason why we can't get A's. Put two experts together and something good's bound to happen."

"Alright," said Katniss. "So what you're saying is you're getting an A in math and I'm getting an A in art?"

"Exactly," said Peeta. "You're a master at math and I'm a master at art."

"Okay," she said, and gave him a small smile. "That's gonna take a lot of work then if we want to make that happen because I highly doubt I'll be capable of getting that kind of mark. I'll be lucky if I come out of this class with a B."

"Don't worry," said Peeta reassuringly. "You'll get your A."

"And what if I don't?"

"You will," he said, still just as confidently. "Count on it."

Katniss stood there for only a moment, before giving him a quick, "alright."

She turned and started her way down the long hallway when Peeta gave her a last friendly smile before turning to leave himself and called to her, "Don't forget what Mr. Odair about week three. Start thinking about what kind of item you'd like to bring to class. Oh, and make sure it means something to you. He said that's important."

She nodded, and recalling what they'd been told earlier, reminded him, "And don't forget what Ms. Coin said to have done for tomorrow. Page ten's for homework, even the extra four questions at the bottom."

"Ugh!" was Peeta's response, but he gave a quick chuckle and called back, "Thanks."

 _Ugh! It's the first day of school and the teacher is already bombarding us with algebra torture? Hang in there, Mellark. It won't be so bad now that Katniss will be helping you. For the first time in your life, maybe you'll actually start to like math. Well...maybe I won't like it but it'll definitely be a lot better now that Katniss will be teaching me. I can't believe it! Katniss Everdeen is gonna be helping me with math? I don't think my first day of high school could have gone any better_. _I hope it's a sign that this is gonna be a great semester. It's off to a good start, that's for sure!_

It was when Katniss was just leaving the school when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. As she'd been strolling out the entrance doors of Madderson High, all she could think was that Peeta had a lot of confidence in others if he thought someone like herself could seriously achieve an A in art. For someone who hadn't even been sure how to hold a pencil, let alone use it to sketch a work of brilliance, she just couldn't envision herself one day holding even a quarter of the talent that Peeta possessed. He'd made the whole thing look as natural as breathing whereas for her, she couldn't have found it more hopelessly difficult.

 _Does he not know how bad I am with it?_ she went on thinking repetitively. _It's different with math. Once I teach him how equations work and how to use them, it's all easy. Art's not like that. You can't just go from being below amateur to suddenly being someone that can draw works of art in minutes. I guess it's nice that he's trying to help and all but he's soon gonna realize how bad I really am at it. At least he's being friendly about all of it._

It wasn't until she'd wandered away from the front doors that it caught her attention. To her left was something bright and yellow and it stood out so much against the green of the grass that she couldn't help but stop and turn her head to get a closer look at it. The yellow she'd seen was that of a single dandelion and there wasn't any dandelion or other flower around. It seemed odd and a bit out of the ordinary for there to be all but one dandelion in the grass when there should have been so many more of them. It was common to see the grass covered with dozens of the small bright flowers, but it was uncommon to make out only one, lone flower.

She didn't have long to wonder about it though as she was now starting to think about something else. It had first entered her mind when she'd spotted the golden color from a distance, but now that she was standing there staring down at it, she was beginning to think more and more of him _._ She hadn't the slightest idea of why this little flower was causing her to think of him, but it was just the same. This one small dandelion – the only one in sight and the only one she could focus on – she was somehow connecting to Peeta Mellark. As to why there was a connection between this flower and the boy in her art class was all but a mystery, but she couldn't ignore the fact that it made her think of him. There was no ignoring or denying that. She might not have known why, or have any understanding of what it could mean, but it felt like in some strange way that this little dandelion was trying to tell her something. What that could possibly be, she could only imagine.

The longer she went on staring at the flower, the more confused she was starting to feel, so she averted her gaze from it and turned and looked behind her. Strolling out of the entrance doors was Peeta and beside him were two other guys who she assumed must have been friends of his. The two guys were just saying goodbye to Peeta and heading on their way, and Peeta was about to do the same...whenhe noticed something.

Standing down by the grass a little way's away from him was Katniss and the look on her face suggested that she'd just been deep in thought and was still lost in thought. The two locked eyes for just a brief moment until Peeta lifted his hand and gave her a little wave as well as a bashful but joyous smile. That snapped her out of it and she returned his smile but then quickly turned and started for home. She hadn't walked even a few feet before she realized that she'd still been pondering about that lone dandelion and why she'd felt a connection between it and Peeta.

If she would have taken even a second to glance back over her shoulder, she would have seen that Peeta hadn't budged. He was still standing by the entrance doors and staring off in her direction with a lost look in his eyes as if his head were in the clouds and nowhere near reality. He'd tried to force himself to move and start walking but it was like his feet were frozen in place and he could do nothing but stand there and watch her. No doubt the other students were aware of the spellbound gaze in his eyes, but none of them could even begin to understand the love he had for this girl. Eleven years he'd spent watching her making her way home and not a single day had gone by where he hadn't gazed longingly in her direction. Most times he'd watch her heading home with her best friend Gale by her side and it only got him wishing that it could be him by her side. But he'd only ever been standing from a distance while staring ahead as she drew farther and farther away, and he was left with that same feeling of loneliness that always seemed to be pulling at his heartstrings.

 _Eleven years watching in silence_ , thought Peeta, and was finally able to wake up his feet and get them in motion. _Eleven years of thinking I'd never get the courage to talk to her...but now we're finally talking! Here all this time I thought we'd never even say 'hi' to each other but now we're in art class together and actually talking!_ _I couldn't have asked for a better first day of high school_.

 _It was probably nothing_ , thought Katniss. She was now halfway home and starting to feel more and more convinced that what she'd seen and felt had been nothing, and that she'd just believed it had been some kind of connection, when really it hadn't been. But why would there have been a connection between a boy she'd just met and a dandelion in the grass in the first place if it really did mean nothing at all? _He just happened to walk out of the school the moment I was staring at it, but that doesn't mean anything. Just a coincidence_. _Happens all the time._

On the way home, the only thing that Peeta could think was, _she talked to me! Not only that, but I even got a few smiles out of her. And laughs! Maybe she wouldn't mind being friends with me after all._ _The simple joy that he'd been able to make her chuckle with the few jokes he'd managed to think of was all he could seem to focus on. It felt like a huge accomplishment and he hoped he'd be lucky enough to get a few more laughs out of here in the days to come._

 _When at last he'd gotten home, he found he was already wondering what the following day would bring. What would be the next assignment he and Katniss would work on together? What other things could they possibly laugh about? And would he be able to do that incredible, magical thing he'd done today which was to make Katniss Everdeen smile at him? He hoped and kept his fingers crossed that the answer would be yes._

 _He'd hardly stepped in the door before he felt himself getting shoved roughly up against the wall and a sneering face appearing only inches from his own. He'd suffered through this routine enough times to know that it was something he'd expect to face every day. There was no getting away from the slug that was his older brother Rye. There was nothing the two shared in common with their personalities, and just as much they didn't share with their physical appearances. Where Peeta's eyes were a bright, crystal blue, Rye's were a dark, chocolate brown. Where Peeta's hair fell in smooth waves over his forehead, Rye's was far messier and looked as if it should have been trimmed weeks ago. And where Peeta was strong and of a stocky build, Rye weighed about half of what Peeta did and hardly had any muscle on his body, but that didn't prevent him from having a little strength of his own._

 _"Hey, loser," he snickered with an obnoxious grin. "How was school?"_

 _"Not like you care," Peeta murmured, and refocused his attention to the kitchen._

 _"You're right," sniggered Rye, and shoved him yet again against the wall and Peeta had to keep from gritting his teeth in frustration. He was never one to break out in a fury and give Rye the same attacks he so often threw at him, but it was irritating just the same. Not a single day went by where Peeta wasn't rudely greeted by his older brother. "I don't...but it's such fuckin' fun throwing you around like this. You think you're so strong just because you can lift a few bags of flour but you'll never be stronger than me."_

Peeta knew this wasn't true. Where he'd been helping his parents in the bakery for years, it was rare that Rye ever actually got up off his butt to do so much as lift a few bags of flour around. Considering how lazy and sluggish he was, it would have taken him ten minutes just to carry one bag, let alone several. Most times he'd be on the couch with a bag of chips in his lap and a glass of pop on the table next to him. No, Rye wasn't one that could be described as physically strong. But that didn't stop him fromthinking, pretending and acting like he was a whole lot stronger than his little brother.

When Peeta managed to break free from Rye's grasp, he made for the stairs and hurried his way up to his room in hopes of beating his brother there. Though Peeta was a great deal stronger than Rye, there was one thing Rye had always proven better at than Peeta and that was running _._ Rye was so quick and agile that Peeta could have gotten a head's start racing up to his room and still Rye would have been able to catch up as if it were the easiest race in the world. In a way, he was like a human Roadrunner and could outrun just about anyone that challenged him to a race. He was just that fast and Peeta could never compete with him no matter how hard he got his legs pumping. As kids, speed was always an advantage Rye had over his brother and even now, that still hadn't changed.

Peeta reached his room and rushed inside but not before Rye had scurried his way in as well. He slammed the door shut with a simple kick of his foot and then turned to face Peeta. He crossed his arms, put one of his feet casually up against the door and went on grinning at his brother like he'd been doing for the past few years. It was always the same with Rye. There were no shocks or surprises anymore, since Peeta had experienced just about every one of Rye's endless tricks.

"So what classes you got?" asked Rye, and then laughed before going on, "Oh, wait. Don't tell me. You picked lameass art as one of them, right? I'm right, aren't I?"

"Why do you even care?" asked Peeta calmly, and took a seat on the edge of his bed. "What difference to you does it make what classes I chose? It's not like they're your classes."

"No, but the fact that you'd take a class as stupid as art," spat Rye, staring directly at Peeta. "Proves how fuckin' stupid you are!" He then added in a mocking tone, "Oh, I'm Peeta and I love drawing! It's so much fun and I wanna be an artist someday! Look how talented I am! Aren't I just the greatest? Maybe if I show Katniss how great of a drawer I am she'll finally wanna—"

"Leave," Peeta commanded calmly, but forcefully. "I've got homework to do and I can't focus with you standing there going on like that."

Rye's only response was to go on grinning at Peeta. It was like he hadn't even heard what his brother had said, but the two knew each other too well. Rye was simply the kind of guy that grabbed every chance he got to annoy and get on his brother's nerves. The amusement and fun he received from nagging at Peeta was priceless with each day feeling more comical than the last. If there was one thing in the world he'd never grow bored of doing, it was harassing his younger brother.

"Leave," Peeta repeated, more firmly this time.

"Make me!" jeered Rye snottily. "You think I give a shit about your stupid homework?" He even went so far as to stick his tongue out despite the fact that he was seventeen. Childishness just wasn't a concern to Rye and where tormenting his younger brother was number one on his to-do-list, acting his age was right at the bottom. That, along with manners, intellect, modesty and a whole lot of other significant traits.

"No, but Ido," countered Peeta, and locked eyes with his brother. _I know you don't care about graduating high school, but I do. I know you think school's a waste of time but I'm kind of hoping to get an education so I can become an artist someday and not doing well in high school isn't gonna help me that much._ The two kept their eyes on the other for a solid minute, neither one of them blinking, until Rye finally rolled his eyes in amusement and started for the door.

"You're such a baby," taunted Rye and stepped out of his room. He then slammed the door shut behind him and hollered in that same condescending tone, "I'm Peeta and I gotta do my math homework and I gotta do it in peace or else I'll fail! I'm so dumb at it though that I'll probably fail anyway and then what'll I do? Oh no!"

Peeta sighed and picked up his bag off the floor and placed it next to him. He opened it, dug inside and pulled out his math book and binder. He figured if he could get page ten done as quickly as he could, he might just have enough time to head back downstairs and grab a small treat. But he'd have to get past his slug of a brother first, and then his witch of a mother as well who'd have an outrage at one of her sons trying to sneak in a few treats before supper. He'd have to be careful with her because most times if he ended up caught by his mother, she'd get out whatever tool she could find and punish him with a serious smack to the face. It didn't matter what she used either – spoons, rolling pins, dish towels or even her own hand – she'd give it to Peeta hard if she ever caught him sneaking in treats before dinner.

 _Maybe I'll wait_ , and he remembered back to all the times she'd struck him in the face and how bad of bruises had lingered on his cheek. _I guess a cheese bun's not really worth getting beaten up over_ , _though I am really craving one right now_.

He spent the next half hour working through the algebra questions, but all the while he kept wishing Katniss were there to lend him a hand. It was frustrating going through math when it wasn't his greatest subject, but he reminded himself that she'd agreed to help him out for exchange of him helping her with art. That cheered him up a bit, and he found he was able to work through the problems just a little bit faster.

When at last he'd finished, he closed up his book and put that as well as his binder in his bag. He then got up off his bed and put it at the bottom of his closet where he always put it. Surprisingly, Mr. Boggs hadn't assigned anything for the first day, but he had no problems with that as science had never been the most fascinating subject for him. Now that all his homework was done, his craving for cheese buns was starting to worsen and he could feel his stomach starting to rumble. He wanted so badly to run downstairs and get one but was it worth the risk of getting slapped in the face and left with an aching bruise? He could have sat there for minutes debating about what to do but he knew the longer he sat there wondering, the louder the rumbling in his stomach would become.

 _Maybe I can get just one if she doesn't see me,_ thought Peeta, and walked out of his room before quietly shutting the door behind him. _Just one cheese bun, that's all._ _As long as she doesn't see me, I should be okay...hopefully._

Thankfully his mother was busy talking with her husband, so she'd have no reason to suspect him sneaking downstairs to grab something to eat. As long as she remained upstairs, then he could take what he wanted, hurry back up and return to his room as if nothing had happened. It would be as easy and simple as that.

He spotted the large bag of cheese buns already on the counter where it was usually placed and feeling hungrier than ever, started to untie the knot. He then opened the bag, reached inside and pulled out one of the smaller ones. He figured since supper would be ready shortly anyways, he wouldn't want to go filling up on cheese buns which would have likely left him feeling stuffed silly. If that happened and he ended up wasting his dinner, then his mother would know for sure that he'd gone and snuck in something before supper. Most likely he would have been met with a brutal smack to the face and just to worsen the punishment, probably wouldn't have been given much of a supper the following night.

He was seconds away from turning and heading back upstairs to his room to enjoy his quick, but delicious snack...when Rye appeared. He stood with his feet apart and his arms crossed as if he'd just seen the most hilarious thing which in his eyes, he had. He shook his head in amusement and all Peeta could do was stuff the cheese bun back into the bag but there was no getting around the fact that his brother had seen him holding it. For all Peeta knew, the weasel could have been standing there the entire time without uttering a word but with a smirk on his face and he wouldn't have even noticed.

"What's that gonna do?" asked Rye, laughing. "You think she's really gonna care whether it's in the bag or in your mouth? Who cares where it's at now? What matters is where it was...and where it was was in your greedy, sneaky little hand."

"She won't hit me if it's still in the bag," Peeta explained while quickly doing the knot back up. "As long as I haven't eaten anything, then she'll have no reason to hit me. She only gets mad when stuff's eaten before supper."

"Wow, you're fuckin' stupid!" scoffed Rye with an exaggerated snort. "You really think Mom gives a shit whether you've eaten it or not? Now if I would have eaten one of those, she probably wouldn't have cared much. Yell at me a bit but so what? And Luchi? Wouldn't have mattered with him since he never gets in shit. But aren't you forgetting something bro? She hates you more anyone else. Luchi and I would get off the hook but not you. Just the fact that you tried to sneak one is enough to piss her off. She hates you too much to just let you walk off without getting hit at and...oh man! Wait till she finds out!"

He then turned and scampered his way up the stairs while snickering under his breath in nothing but excitement. "It's gonna be awesome!" he giggled, and Peeta could hear the sound of his feet bouncing up the stairs two at a time.

Anyone might have guessed by the tone of Rye's voice that he'd just been given a huge bag of candy and had just been told he didn't have to share with a single person. It wouldn't have crossed anyone's mind that the real reason for his excitement was that he was about to tattle on his younger brother and for Peeta, land him in unfortunate trouble.

Peeta could hear his brother hollering from the top of the stairs, "You're in for it, loser!"

"Rye, don't!" called Peeta in desperation, but there was no stopping his brother. When Rye had something on his mind, there wasn't a person in the world that could stop him, especially when it involved getting to see his younger brother smacked in the face by his vicious mother. That was a sight he'd enjoyed seeing since the two had been kids and even now when he was seventeen years old, he still got a wicked laugh out of it.

He barely had time to put the cheese buns away before he heard the sound of his mother's footsteps stomping down the stairs. They sounded like roaring thunder and he could only imagine the look of sheer anger on her face at having been informed that Peeta was attempting to get in a snack before supper. If there was anything his mother despised her sons doing, it was taking food out of the supplies of goods they kept stored down in the bakery. She'd always give them a scolding and remind them how the food they kept in the bakery wasn't there for them to stuff their own greedy mouths with – it was there for customers and customers were what kept their business running. It didn't matter that they had more than enough food for themselves and those who bought from them either. Squandering food just wasn't a thing their mother tolerated.

When she appeared in the kitchen, Peeta froze instantly and wished he were anywhere else in the house but there. It was like the woman had seen the most horrific sight imaginable, when really she was only staring at her son who was guilty of trying to snack on a cheese bun before supper. Normally, mothers wouldn't think much of this and most would simply give their child a disapproving look and tell them, "You'll ruin your supper," but most wouldn't think to go so far as to actually hit their son. That simply wasn't a thing mothers in general did, but Peeta's monster of a mother didn't belong in the same category as all the others. She fell in the class of mothers that commonly used violence and aggression towards their children and could never be compared to the friendly and likeable mothers that made up most of District Twelve, and all of Panem itself.

Shifting his gaze slightly, he saw none other than Rye standing beside her with a smug, victorious smirk. He was leaning casually up against the wall with his arms crossed as if he were in total control and was calling all the shots. Peeta had no doubt the guy was loving every second of this and could hardly wait for the moment to arrive when his brother got yelled at and smacked in the face.

"See how he tied up the bag again, Mom?" Rye pointed out to his mother, and Peeta could hear the unmistakable glee in his voice. It might not have been as noticeable or clear to his mother, but Peeta wouldn't have missed it even if the guy had been whispering. "He had the cheese bun out, but then he put it back in when he saw me. Didn't want you to know what he was up to. I told him he shouldn't have tried sneaking in treats before supper just like you tell us, but the guy just wouldn't listen to me. He's not a very good listener, is he? He just doesn't get it. Sneaking in treats before supper just isn't allowed in this house. Guess he needs a reminder of that."

His mother didn't respond. She just stood there glaring at her son as if she wanted to snatch him up and twist him inside out in the hopes of smartening him up. Her eyes were like blazing flames and the harder he looked, the more Peeta felt that her eyes were truly on fire and that she'd explode at the drop of a hat. He wondered if she'd ever speak, but then she gave a shake of her head and kept her eyes glued to her son as she opened her mouth. It was just as she was starting to open her mouth that he knew he was in for it and it was that realization that made Peeta wish he'd chosen to ignore his rumbling stomach and wait till after supper to have a cheese bun. He should have known that Rye would be just around the corner in search of his next golden opportunity to annoy and bother Peeta since that seemed to be all the guy cared about when the two were in the house anyway.

"You stupid creature!" she hissed through clenched teeth. "How many times do I have to tell you not to go sneaking in things before supper? I tell you time and again and yet you still don't listen! Is there something you just don't get about that, Peeta? Have I not made myself perfectly clear? You need me to go over this again?"

"I-I put it away though, Mom," said Peeta nervously, and could do nothing but drop her gaze and stare in fear at the floor. He knew holding his mother's gaze wouldn't have been wise, as that would have only set her off even more. "I didn't even take a bite out of it. I just put it back. I-I won't take anything else ever again, I promise."

His mother remained utterly silent.

In a much quieter voice, he told her, "I know you've told me not to eat things before supper, and I know that but I...I was just hungry."

After biting the inside of her lip, his mother barked out, "And that's your excuse? You were hungry? What? You were so hungry you just couldn't wait another hour till—"

"I'm sorry, Mom!" argued Peeta, unable to keep from blurting out in an attempt to avoid what he knew would be coming. After swallowing, he then said in a genuine voice though knowing his efforts were futile "I won't do it again."

"So many times you've fuckin' said that, Peeta!" she hollered in rage. "I tell you time and again and yet you still can't seem to understand that! I'll never make sense of what your goddam problem is! What? Do I not feed you enough? Is that it? Are you never getting as much food as you want so you go stuffing your face with cheese buns? Huh?"

 _N-no. I was just hungry and wanted something to eat,_ was all Peeta could think. But he dared not say that out loud, for fear of building fuel to the already raging fire in his mother's temper. Speaking his thoughts was never a wise thing to do in front of this woman. The best thing he could compare it to was waving a red flag in front of a bull and having to then face the fury of that animal as it came charging after you.

What happened next came as no surprise to Peeta.

Forming a fist with her hand, his mother brought a thrusting blow to her son's exposed, unprotected face. The force of it was enough to make Peeta want to cry and somewhere inside him, he figured the tears were already forming. His mother knew how to hurt a person without actually getting in a violent fight. As Peeta knew better than anyone, all she needed was a fist and someone's face and she'd do the rest. Like all the other times he'd gotten smacked, he knew there'd be a bruise shortly enough and like every other time, he'd have to suck it up and try and ignore the soreness and throbbing of it while waiting for it to vanish.

But Peeta was a strong guy and he was usually able to hold back his tears without too much difficulty. Rye never liked this as one of the many things he loved seeing was his little brother crying because he'd gotten smacked in the face by his mother. It never failed to get him falling to the floor in laughter but he made sure not to make too much of a fool of himself in fear of his mother taking out any leftover anger she had towards Peeta out on him _._ He enjoyed seeing Peeta get a fist to the face but it wasn't something he wanted to ever experience himself, so he often held back his laughter till his mother had left.

Peeta felt sure his mother was done with him, but he'd forgotten for a moment that there was always some kind of additional punishment she forced onto him. Never did she only give her son a sore and tender bruise; there was always more to what she did. The madness of her work went far beyond a slap to the face here or a screaming there.

"Get up to your room," ordered his mother flatly, still glaring at Peeta in aggravation. "You'll get supper but nothing more. And don't even think of sneaking downstairs for a snack or else I'll get that rolling pin out and—"

"But Mom, I wasn't going to—"

"I don't care, Peeta!" she snarled, annoyed and sick of the interruptions. "You wanna make that two rolling pins?" She then added while pointing to the stairs, "I don't even wanna hear another word out of you. Just get your ass up in that room and don't come out till supper's ready. You wanna argue with me? Go right ahead. But prepare to get a whole lot worse than what you just got. Expect to end up with black and blue marks and don't think for a second that I wouldn't give you that kind of punishment because you know dam well I will. You'll always get what you deserve so if you want to avoid what you know I'll punish you with...then smarten the hell up for once in your life."

Peeta barely had time to start moving before his mother barked out impatiently, "Are you deaf? I said get your ass up in that room...NOW!"

Despite the fact that Peeta was now sixteen and a teenager, this meant absolutely nothing to his mother who felt that a person of any age ought to be punished if they deserved it. For sixteen years, she'd not once stopped sending her son straight to his room if he ever said or did something she disagreed with. It was the same thing with Rye who was seventeen and Luchi who was nineteen. If they got on her nerves or messed up at whatever it was they were doing in the kitchen or did something to annoy her, it was straight to their room for them. It was different with Luchi though because unlike Peeta, he no longer got sent to his room since he hardly ever got on his mother's bad side. Like Peeta, Rye would get sent to his room but nowhere near the amount of times Peeta would and unlike his younger brother...Rye was never struck in the face and left with a burning pain.

Of the three of them, Peeta was the only one who was ever physically punished by their mother. Rye might have gotten the occasional slap to the face but it was never one of enough force to actually hurt him. In no way could the smacks he got be compared to what Peeta received.

It always baffled Peeta how his mother could get so upset over the simplest things. Most kids would get punished due to serious things like mouthing off to their parents, going behind their backs, lying or even stealing. But Peeta's mother wasn't like other parents and hadn't raised her children in the same manner. If he did something as minor as dropping food on the floor, he'd hardly have time to grab some paper towel to clean it up before getting sent to his room. It wouldn't matter how innocent of a mistake he'd made either as his mother would almost always see it as annoying and unnecessary and would sometimes even accuse him of having done it on purpose.

There was no point in trying to talk his way out of it, so without a word he walked past his mother and Rye and headed right for the stairs. It came as no surprise to Peeta when he saw Rye stick out his tongue as if he was five and point it directly at his brother. Since he'd arrived home that was twice his brother had stuck out his tongue at him and it wouldn't surprise him if this happened yet again. Rye might have been seventeen, but most of the time his behaviour was nothing but silly and childish, and Peeta knew this better than anyone. There wasn't a person he knew who put up with Rye's constant foolishness as much as he did. Luchi was hardly ever bothered by Rye and Rye never seemed interested in instigating trouble with his older brother. The only one he ever got any pleasure out of tormenting was Peeta.

While heading upstairs, Peeta didn't have to look back to know that his mother's eyes were on him like a vulture, ensuring that he went nowhere but straight to his room. He made sure to go up the stairs two at a time, hurry down the hall and then go into his room, not forgetting to shut the door behind him to let his mother know that he was indeed now in his room. By leaving the door open, she would have immediately assumed he'd gone somewhere else in the house as opposed to going where she'd sent him which was right to his room. Locking the door would have been just as unwise as it would have implied to Mrs. Mellark that her son was attempting to hide from whatever punishment she felt he deserved.

And as Peeta knew, hiding from his mother – what with the wicked temper she had – would have been the worst thing in the world to have done.

 _I swear that boy will never_ _learn_ , thought Peeta's mother irritably, and left the kitchen to go talk to her husband. The only person now in the kitchen was Rye, who instantly broke out laughing the second his mother was gone. He wouldn't have dared even chuckle under his breath while being in the same room as that woman in fear of her erupting in anger all over again and giving him just as nasty of a slap as she'd given to Peeta.

 _What a loser_ , thought Rye. Glancing quickly over his shoulder to make sure that no one was watching, he reached down and opened up the bag of cheese buns and wasted no time in grabbing one for himself. His hungry, greedy little stomach was screaming for treats and what better treat than the delicacy that were cheese buns? His favourite treat of all though were chocolate brownies, but there was certainly nothing wrong with how cheese buns tasted. He definitely could have went on eating them for hours with no major complaints.

He took a huge bite and swallowed before he'd barely even begun chewing. Being a truly impatient person, he could barely allow himself time to chew his food before sending it down his throat. _Can't even get himself a snack...whatever. That little wuss don't deserve any anyway_. _Hell, he doesn't even deserve supper_.

"Man those are good!" said Rye under his breath. He swallowed the last bit of cheesy goodness but was now wishing he could grab another two or three and shove them into his mouth, but that would have been suicide. No, one for now was plenty enough and the way he saw it, there'd be plenty of opportunities to make a pig out of himself once supper was finished. There always was.

 _And best of all_ , thought Rye as he made his way upstairs to his room. _I'll just blame Peeta for those missing buns and she'll never even guess it was me. Hah! That guy's such a sucker. Can't even go a day without getting a smack in the face by Mommy. Maybe if you weren't such a glutton, Peeta, you wouldn't get into these messes, but you're so stupid that you just let me put all the blame on you and who gets punched? You!_

After Peeta had left his room and gone downstairs to eat supper, it was straight back up to his room. He was glad that he'd managed to get his homework done earlier as he was suddenly feeling extremely tired. His mother slapping him in the face didn't exactly help either, which had only made his head feel sleepier and his eyes feel drowsier than they'd been prior to that. All he wanted right then was to crawl into bed and slide under the warmth and comfort of the mountain of blankets. It felt like the only time he could ever not have people snapping at his throat and constantly yelling at him was when he was sleeping. He never had to worry about getting bitten at or howled at then but rather, could simply enjoy the warmth of his covers and the feeling of his head against a soft, downy pillow.

That night, the bed felt even warmer and more comfortable than ever and when he rested his head against the cushiony pillow, he let his mind drift back to that wonderful day. He tried pushing what had gone on with Rye and his mother out of his head and did his best to put all his attention on everything that had happened previous to that. Coming home might have been downright awful what with his brother teasing him from one side and his mother striking him from the other but everything else had been like a dream.

It had been his first day at Madderson High and it had also been the day he'd finally spoken to Katniss Everdeen. He couldn't have hoped for things to have turned out any better, and the fact that they shared the same art class only confirmed what he had been hoping for from the very beginning – that the two could begin to form a potential friendship. He'd give anything to be able to talk to her, spend time with her and do whatever he could to see her smile and laugh and know that he'd been the one to make her do that. It had taken a while for the two to come together, but now it felt like he really was on his way to possibly earning her friendship.

It was just as he was starting to doze off that Peeta thought in nothing but excitement: _she talked to me! Not only that, but I even got a few smiles out of her...and laughs. I was even able to make her laugh! Maybe she wouldn't mind being friends with me after all._

It was later in the night that Peeta unexpectedly awoke from what had been a particularly enjoyable sleep. Glancing over at his bedside clock, he saw that it read 2:15am and all he could wonder was why he'd woken up at such a late hour in the night. Normally, he was the kind of person that went to bed, shut his eyes and remained sleeping till morning. Being a heavy sleeper, there wasn't much that was able to wake him out of a dead sleep. It was rare that he ever woke up because he was feeling hungry, thirsty or simply had to go use the bathroom. What he wanted was to put his head back on the cushiony pillow and let himself fall back to sleep but there was something he'd just noticed that suddenly got him feeling not so tired anymore.

As he peered out at the open hallway, he noticed a distant, but noticeable light that was clearly coming from somebody's bedroom. As to whose room it was coming from, he wasn't entirely sure but the fact that a light was on meant someone was up. Like himself, his mother, father, Luchi and Rye were all people that went to bed and stayed sleeping but there was no denying that one of them was up. Then again, he figured it was probably nothing and that one of them had woken up out a dead sleep for the same reason he would have – because they were hungry, thirty or had to use the washroom.

He would have fallen right back to sleep and ignored the shining light at the bottom of his doorway...if not for the fact that it hadn't winked out yet. It was now 2:45am and it made no sense why that light was still on. It took less than five minutes to head downstairs, grab a quick snack and return to bed and it took even less time to quickly use the bathroom.

So why hadn't the light been turned off yet?

No one stays up this late in the night. Peeta was becoming more bewildered by the second. Luchi never does since he loves sleep too much. Dad wouldn't because he says he always loves a good night's sleep after a long day and I don't think I've ever seen Mom up through the night. And Rye...

He instantly knew where that light was coming from. He was surprised it hadn't hit him sooner but it now was and it made perfect sense.

It's gotta be him, thought Peeta. Trying his best to move carefully and quietly, he moved his way off his bed and walked stealthily over to the door. As always, he was terrible at remaining silent and as he moved one foot in front of the other, it sounded like the floor under his feet was creaking and cracking as if his feet were made of bricks. No one else stays up this late in the night. Maybe he's just pulling an all-nighter and doesn't feel like sleeping. That's probably all it is. He's probably just listening to some music or browsing on his phone or...

But there was no sound of music coming from his brother's room just one room down the hall, nor was there any sound at all. No noise, no indication that he was indeed doing just this; all he could hear was total and utter silence. It was odd to hear such perfect silence but Rye was always one to crank up his music as loud as he could and though it was almost three in the morning, it was still strange to hear this kind of hush. It felt unnatural. He knew Rye wouldn't have been so bold as to go ahead and blast his music when he knew neither of his parents – let alone his mother – would have allowed it. But to hear nothing at all was a bit peculiar.

When Peeta reached the open doorway, he glimpsed out into the hall and when his eyes fell on his brother's room, he saw the light clear as day. He now saw that Rye hadn't just turned on the lamp on his bedside table – he'd turned on his bedroom light. That explained why Peeta had been able to catch sight of the light so easily from his bed. The light of a small lamp he probably wouldn't have noticed but a light that lit up an entire room would most certainly grab his attention, and it had.

 _He's up_ , thought Peeta with certainty while staring ahead at his brother's room. The door was closed and knowing what Rye was like, that most likely meant it was locked as well. Leaving it open would have allowed his younger brother to slither his way in and intrude on his personal space. _If he was asleep, he would have shut off that light. No way he would have kept it on. He's up but...what's he doing?_

It crossed his mind that Rye could have very well turned on his bedroom light just to see if he'd get out of bed, go to his room and ask him to shut it off. His older brother took pleasure in even the simplest things but even that didn't make sense. Why would he think to do something like that at such a late hour in the night? Maybe he really was up and not wanting a wink of sleep and he was overreacting about the entire thing. There was every chance Rye was on his bed with a plate of brownies at his side and he was doing absolutely nothing but listening to music.

Maybe...but something was telling Peeta this wasn't the case.

Some nagging feeling inside him was tugging at his thoughts and suggesting more was going on here. It was one of those feelings one gets when they try to convince themself of one thing but their heart leads them in the opposite direction and that person knows this change in direction will lead them to what they want – the truth. Whether he really was thinking too much into it or there really was more going on, it didn't matter. Peeta was now leaving his room and quietly heading over to his brother's to get some answers.

No longer was his mind on crawling back into bed as the question of why Rye was still up was refusing to leave him. He wasn't even hearing the sound of his feet on the floor anymore as his mind was so fixed on why his older brother wasn't asleep at almost three in the morning. The chances of Luchi or his parents hearing him walking about were slim anyway since he and his family were all pretty heavy sleepers. It would take a lot more noise than someone's feet treading on the floor to rouse himself, his parents and two brothers from their sleep.

When he reached his brother's room, he hesitated only for a moment. Even when he moved his head closer to the door, still he couldn't hear the familiar sound of his brother's music. Now he knew for sure Rye couldn't be on his iPod or phone but if that was true then...what was he still doing up? If he wasn't occupying himself with brownies and music, then what reason did he have to still be awake?

 _Did he maybe forget to turn off the light?_ The more Peeta thought about this, the more he was starting to think this was probably the case. _I almost did that once so maybe that's all it is._

There was only one way to find that out so he reached out, grasped the doorknob and slowly began turning it. He then began opening the door just as slowly and when he had it less than halfway opened, he peered cautiously into his older brother's room. What he'd wanted to see was Rye on his back with his headphones in his ears that would have told him he was still up because he wasn't feeling tired. He wanted to look in and see him sound asleep that would have confirmed that he had forgotten to shut off the light. What he'd wanted was to see something normal but as he stood there staring into Rye's room, he saw something that could only be described as...unusual.

Sitting cross-legged on the bed with his arms crossed was Rye. As his back was to Peeta, he couldn't make out what expression was on his face but if he could have, he would have realized almost immediately that it was anything but normal. His brown eyes were hardly blinking and one glance into them and Peeta would have been met with a hazy, clouded look that suggested Rye wasn't actually sitting on the bed in his room but instead...was somewhere else. Knowing where this place was would have explained the lost, almost deadened look in his eyes.

From what he could see, however, Peeta saw that his brother was focused on nothing in his room but the window next to his bed. He was seated almost directly in front of it and what stood out even more was that Rye's body was hardly moving, as if he'd stopped breathing entirely. What he should have seen was the regular rising and falling of his older brother's shoulders but as he observed him more intently, he saw none of this. He didn't see any form of movement and that in itself was starting to make him feel uneasy. There was no turning of his head, shifting of his arms or legs, sighing, grumbling or yawning that indicated he was getting drowsy. No sound was coming from his mouth and there was no part of his body that was moving even the slightest. Though he knew Rye was of course breathing, it struck him as unsettling that his entire body had entered a state of such stillness.

He only had to observe his brother for a minute to know that what he was seeing...wasn't normal. Why would Rye be sitting so still while doing nothing but gazing out his bedroom window? Why was his body so frighteningly still as it were trapped by some invisible force that no one could see? All these questions racing through Peeta's mind led him to conclude that Rye's behaviour wasn't in any way normal. It wasn't a thing he had to think twice about or have sudden doubts about as it was clear as day and the worry that he was now experiencing was solid proof of that.

He couldn't stand there any longer and not speak up so without even questioning it...he pushed the door open the rest of the way. He took a few steps forward and was now standing in the doorway to his brother's room and still Rye's hadn't budged, shifted his gaze or acknowledged that Peeta had just stepped into his room. It was like he was so engrossed with staring out his bedroom window at the outside world that he was unable to sense or hear anything occurring around him. Peeta went on watching him for only a moment before deciding that Rye's was definitely concerned with something else and the only way he'd be able to reach out to him would be to open his mouth.

"R-Rye?" asked Peeta and he barely picked up on the slight, but evident quiver in his voice. He hoped his voice would pull his brother out of the trance he was so noticeably trapped in. For a few seconds, he was starting to think Rye wasn't even hearing him at all but then he saw his head turning slowly and he knew he had indeed heard him. He might have been elsewhere and Peeta hadn't a clue as to where that could be, but he was still able to hear him.

When he finally turned his head so that Peeta could look him squarely in the face, there wasn't a word escaping from his mouth. He didn't say anything or even get up off his bed to walk over, give Peeta a rough, vigorous shove only to then slam the door in his face. But though he wasn't doing any of these things, what he was doing was sending an unpleasant shiver down Peeta's back. He'd first felt it when he'd been approaching his brother's room but it had now grown into an unavoidable sense of worry.

The look Rye was giving him as he glared into his younger brother's eyes could only be described as being one of sheer and total anger. There was no mistaking the burning flames in his eyes and the very way he locked eyes with Peeta was enough to inform him that he wanted no part of this guy standing in the doorway of his room. He didn't need to leave the comfort of his bed to physically force him out of his room as the intense fury in his eyes spoke volumes. So many times Peeta had stared into the eyes of his older brother, only to time and again be struck with the same, identical things – hatred, anger, annoyance, narcissism and detest. Written on his face like words on a page and more notably in his darkened eyes were all of these things.

He and Rye's eyes remained locked for what felt like an uncomforting lifetime and during this time, the fire in Rye's eyes hadn't died down but rather, only seemed to be growing. Like a blazing, rampant fire that held unspeakable power, the inferno was swelling to unnerving heights, and Peeta feared there'd be no chance of dousing it. Just as eerie as the ominous, fuming look he was giving him was the abnormal motionlessness of his body. Not a single part of him was budging and from afar, anyone might have mistaken him for being a lifeless statue as opposed to a living, breathing person. His brother didn't have to be up and physically hammering Peeta for him to make out that Rye Mellark had become infuriated at the very sight of his younger brother. His hands didn't have to be shaking, his legs didn't need to be shuddering, his nostrils didn't have to be flaring and his lips didn't have to be quivering for Peeta to understand that without a doubt...Rye wanted him gone and out of his room. He'd grown so incensed that rather than his body stirring even an inch, it had settled into such a state where it was like all the energy had been drained out of it.

No words had to be spoken for Peeta to realize this, as it was so crystal clear the way Rye went on glaring so fiercely at him. He knew just by reading the emotion showing in his brother's eyes that he was in no way wanted in this room. And no matter how badly he might have wanted to go sit down and talk with him...he knew such an endeavour would be enormously pointless. One more failing attempt to share a heart to heart discussion with his brother was all he'd be met with.

So without saying anything else, Peeta reached out, clasped the doorknob and with his hand trembling slightly, slowly began closing it. Even as the door was beginning to close and Rye's image began vanishing, still he could see the heated fire in his eyes and even then he hadn't budged from his spot in front of the window. When the door was finally closed and Peeta stood there staring at his feet on the floor, he knew what he'd see if he reopened the door and peeked back in. He'd see that Rye would have returned to staring blankly out the window beside his bed but unlike just recently, he wouldn't acknowledge his brother's presence. His eyes would remain locked on nothing but the darkness of the outside world and the only source of light that emitted from the far-off moon that shone brightly above.

As for Peeta, he knew there was nothing else that could be said or done to bring Rye out of whatever realm he was currently in. He'd hoped that his brother would have returned to reality, shut off his light and crawled back into bed to escape from whatever was on his mind. Instead, all he'd done was go on staring at Peeta with an unwavering, steely glare that spoke a thousand words. They were words that all held the same message, and that was: _get the hell out of my room._

Even when Peeta had made his way back to his bed and was now focusing only on the ceiling above him, all he could see were the fiery, unblinking eyes of his angered brother. The image seemed to appear to him from all corners of his room and not even when he closed his eyes and was met with blackness had the image left his vision. He wished he could just forget what he'd seen and simply dismiss it as being nothing, but how could he do that? What answer could he come up with for why Rye had been sitting for so long on his bed while staring for hours out his bedroom window? How could he explain the bizarre, unusual behaviour that involved him sitting still as a statue, hardly blinking and breathing so quietly that it looked as if he wasn't breathing at all?

Peeta knew he could have went on repeating these questions to himself till morning, but his eyes were now fighting to stay open. When he glanced over at his bedside clock and saw it was now 3:38am, it was only a few minutes later till he was sleeping. Before he dozed off, the last thought that ran through his mind was: _I just wish you'd tell me what was going on in your head._

It was 3:38am, morning was just a few hours away along with the rising sun...and still Rye was staring out his bedroom window with that same dazed, vacant expression.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

 **SEPTEMBER**

It had taken Peeta all of one week to become completely comfortable and familiar with the halls and areas of Madderson High and he now knew the school like the back of his hand. There were no more worries about getting lost or not knowing which direction to go in because the school now felt like a second home to him, in the sense that he knew exactly where he was going. It had seemed scary and frighteningly huge at first, but after a few days of wandering the halls, it was all simple and effortless now. It was now his second week at Madderson High and the place really was starting to feel like home to him. He knew where everything was and where to go if he was confused or concerned about something, or if he had a particular question about anything at all.

Though he was comfortable with the school, he still wasn't entirely convinced he'd get comfy when it came to math. It just wasn't the kind of thing he could get worked up about and having an instructor like Ms. Coin didn't help things much either. Her voice went in one ear and out the other and if you weren't paying the closest of attention, then you'd likely miss an important detail and Ms. Coin wasn't one to repeat things, especially if she knew students hadn't been listening. She'd simply move on and tell students if they missed what she'd said to go and ask someone else for the notes because there was no way she'd be saying things twice.

She might not have been the greatest teacher, but that didn't stop Peeta from putting in all the effort he could, no matter how much he wasn't a fan of math. If he wanted to pass the class and more importantly graduate from high school, then he'd have to make sure he came out with a passing grade in a minimum of two math classes. It helped that he at least had two of his friends, Marvel and Cato in his class, so he was thankful that he'd at least have people to chat with and keep him company. He couldn't imagine what it'd be like to have to sit through an hour of math every day with no friends to talk to and have nothing to listen to but the dull, ongoing voice of Ms. Coin. He felt grateful to have friends with him, but he also didn't slack off or spend the whole hour goofing off because that would have just ended badly. Either he would have been sent to detention or if Ms. Coin was in a cranky enough mood, she'd go right for the phone and make a call to his parents to inform them that their son wasn't doing what he was supposed to and that she wasn't impressed.

The fact that her classroom was about as interesting as a room with no color whatsoever also didn't help get him too excited about math. Where Mr. Odair decorated his rooms with color and posters, plants and anything lively and unique he could get his hands on, Ms. Coin couldn't be bothered with such things. In her room, there was hardly any color; the posters were only of equations, graphs and endless numbers; there weren't any plants and it made you wonder if she evenliked being in the room at all. It was all too obvious students didn't because most would just sit in their desks with their head in their hands as if they were watching trees grow or watching a game of chess. One thing was for sure – she was definitely at the top of the list for being one of the most boring teachers of Madderson High, next to Mr. Boggs of course. Peeta felt lucky to have a teacher as awesome as Mr. Odair because if not for him, his first semester of high school would have ended up feeling pretty dreary.

It was the start of the week and in Peeta's opinion, Monday's were both the best and worst day of the week. It was the worst day of the week because it meant there was a grand total of four more days to get through before the weekend was upon him yet again. But at the same time, it was the best day of the week because it meant he'd get to be in art class and even better, he'd get to talk to Katniss again. Ever since their first day of class, the two had been getting along fairly well in art and every so often they'd see each other putting their books away at their lockers or strolling by in the halls. Peeta always made sure to give her a friendly smile and wave and to his utter joy, she'd always return his smile with one of her own. It made his heart soar each and every time because it made him feel all the more convinced and sure that perhaps the two couldbecome friends and spend some time together.

He was also happy that the bruise his mother had given him just days ago had finally healed. He'd been a little embarrassed when Katniss had noticed it and hadn't known what to say to her, but he told her in a casual tone that he and his brother had been goofing around and he'd gotten a little out of control and had accidently landed a punch directly on Peeta's cheek. He'd hated lying to her, but he also didn't want to reveal the truth about his personal life and what really went on with him and his family. She'd seemed surprised and a little concerned when she'd first seen his face, but Peeta assured her that it was nothing and that it didn't hurt at all, which was true. The only time he ever felt pain or discomfort from bruises was when he first got them. A few days later and there'd be no soreness or aching whatsoever. In all, the bruise had stuck with him for only a week and once it was gone, there was no sign at all that the redness had ever been there.

 _I can't tell her the truth_ , he'd repeatedly thought while his head had reeled from one direction to the next. _I don't want her feeling uncomfortable about what goes on at home and I don't want her trying to get involved. Maybe she wouldn't bother to but if she did, I wouldn't want her getting hurt and who knows what Mom would say or do? And she'd freak if she knew I was telling people about her. I wouldn't want her hurting Dad or Katniss or anyone so...maybe it's best I don't let her know. School's just started and the last thing I want is her having to hear that Mom hits me and yells in my face._

In a spiralling wave of guilt that had sat heavy on his heart with tremendous weight, he'd reminded himself: _besides...she doesn't deserve to have to get thrown into this mess. Who knows how bad things would get if she did? It's my family that's broken in pieces and whatever problems we have, we need to deal with them ourselves, which means I can't go dragging other people into it. So as much as I hate it...I need to cover up the truth. Who knows? Maybe I'll tell her one day but right now, I just want her enjoying high school without having to think about that kind of drama._

As it was a Monday, Peeta knew that the first class of the day was always math. It was one of the other reasons he wasn't so fond of Mondays because it meant he'd be starting the week off with his least favourite subject, as opposed to Fridays where his first class of the day was art. It was halfway through the class when Ms. Coin returned to her desk at the front of the room after having told everyone what their task was for the remainder of the hour. She'd told them to get as many questions done in chapter one from pages twelve through sixteen as they could and then whatever was leftover, to have completed for homework.

Peeta wasn't too excited to hear this, but he'd told himself that he'd do his absolute best to develop a more positive attitude towards math, and he wanted to stick to that. When he flipped open his book, the sheer number of questions made his head spin but he ignored it and pretended the problems were as simple as painting a picture. He envisioned colors, interlocking patterns and swirls on the pages in front of him rather than rows and rows of tricky equations. He knew this was far from the truth, but it made him feel just a slight bit better about having to complete so many questions.

He started off alright, and he was starting to wonder if he just might be able to get the majority of the work done before class ended, when he felt his mind drifting off. He hated when this happened and most times he'd try and stop it from happening, but it would always end the same way and that was with him failing to do so. As Mr. Odair had explained, there wasn't a tool in the world that was more powerful than the mind and he was absolutely right, and Peeta knew that all too well. For the past eleven years his mind had done nothing but fantasize and think about Katniss Everdeen and as hard as he tried, Peeta became a constant victim of his own daydreams. It was impossible to escape from the greyness of her eyes, the smile on her face, the graceful way that she walked and the sound of her mesmerizing laughter. Every time his mind obsessed over Katniss, Peeta realized more and more that he'd been a goner to this girl since he was five years old when he'd first laid eyes on her on their first day of school.

 _I wonder what she's doing right now_? By this point, he'd entered yet another one of his frequent daydreams, completely forgetting about the book, binder and math problems in front of him. _Does she wish we were in more classes together? Does she wish I was in her history class? Math class maybe?_ _Is she as excited about art class as I am? Well, maybe not. I know she still doesn't like art all that much since it's only been two weeks, but maybe...maybe she's excited to see me? Oh, come on, Mellark! She's only known you for about two weeks and even then you still haven't talked much with her. She still doesn't know much about you_.

"Peeta?"

 _Heck, she might still think of you as a stranger_ , he went on, and by now the binder and textbook in front of him had become all but invisible as if they weren't even there. It was like the classroom was in a whole other world by now and all he could focus on was the world inside his own head. _You've gotta start talking more with her; tell her more about you and then maybe she won't think of you as much of a stranger. Maybe...maybe then I can try and be friends with her_.

"Peeta?"

 _Yeah!_ Running it through his head once more, he'd come to a decision. _That's what I'll do. I'll just keep talking to her, get to know her better and then maybe I'll ask her if she'd like to be friends. That sounds like an okay plan. But what if she says no? What if she doesn't find me interesting enough to want to be_ —

"Peeta!"

"W-what?" asked Peeta, glancing around in a daze. "Who said—" and that's when his eyes fell on Cato and Marvel staring at him with the oddest expressions. It took a second for his eyes to adjust and then the two of them came into focus and no longer looked like blurry shadows. "S-sorry...what were you saying?" Even his voice sounded like it was still caught up in a spinning daze.

"Geez, you okay?" laughed Marvel, putting his pencil down. "You were really out of it for a minute."

"Uh, yeah," said Peeta, chuckling lightly. "No big deal. Just thinking about stuff."

"Oh?" said Cato, sounding curious. "What kind of stuff?"

"Nothing," said Peeta quickly, hoping they wouldn't be interested, though he knew he was kidding himself. Marvel and Cato were two of the most curious guys he knew, Cato especially. Saying 'nothing' to Cato would only result in him realizing what that really meant, and that was that there was indeed something more he wasn't hearing. "How about we finish these math questions? Don't want to have them for homework."

"That's okay," said Cato, casually. He closed his book, slid it to the side of his desk along with his binder and then turned his attention back to Peeta. "Those can wait till later. Math's boring anyway. So what were you thinking about?" He gave one of his familiar grins and his friend knew there'd be no shaking this guy loose, as usual.

"Really, nothing!" said Peeta, pretending to be reading over the questions despite the fact that he knew he wasn't fooling anybody, let alone his friends into thinking that he actually cared about getting the work done. His gruelling math work could always wait till later and as long as it got done before it was due, then he'd have nothing to fret about. Right then, his mind was still begging to be brought back to that wonderful place where he could lose himself in his thoughts about Katniss Everdeen and once more see that stunning smile of hers.

"Hey, that there was notnothing," Cato told him seriously while holding back a laugh. "You were totally out of it, man. You were definitely thinking about something and whatever it was, it sure as heck wasn't math. You're not fooling anyone, Mellark. No way you'd have that kind of look on your face thinking about algebra. No one gets a look on their face like that. We know ya too well and we know something's up."

"Yeah," Marvel agreed. "Watcha thinking about?"

"Nothing," Peeta assured them, twirling his pencil lazily. "Just daydreaming."

"Come on, buddy, start spilling," Cato went on while tapping his fingers on the table. "Let's hear it. You know I like stories."

"How about this?" Marvel suggested. "Give us a clue and we'll figure out the rest."

"I betcha Iknow what he's thinking about," said Cato with a knowing grin. He then used a finger to trace a large heart on the surface of the table and when Marvel saw this, he too felt a grin forming on his face. To finish it off, he traced the letters K-A-T-N-I-S-S inside the heart.

Peeta sighed, knowing it was useless to try and change the subject or convince them he wanted to get the math work done, because he knew they wouldn't believe him. They knew his mind was fantasizing about something and they wanted to know what it was.

"Well, I uh..." he started, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He wasn't exactly sure why he was feeling that way, since both Marvel and Cato knew that he was simply crazy about Katniss. He figured he just felt nervous discussing her around anyone else, but he knew he had no reason to feel that way around these guys. He'd been friends with them since junior high and they'd always supported him and encouraged him to go and talk to her, so they were certainly hoping he'd end up with her. It was the ears of all the students around them he didn't want listening in. If that happened, then Ms. Coin would shift her attention to what everyone was so interested in and then he'd surely have double the questions for homework.

"Go on," urged Cato, still grinning.

"Oh, fine!" Peeta finally blurted out, figuring he might as well tell them since they'd only keep going on about it if he didn't. "I was thinking about Katniss, okay?"

"Knew it!" declared Cato quickly and smiled proudly as if he'd just read Peeta's mind. "Am I right or am I right?"

"Come on!" said Marvel jokingly, and gave him a light punch in the arm. "Even I knew he was thinking about her! Didn't take a genius to figure that out."

"Yeah, well, I'm still right," Cato shot back with a laugh, and then said to Peeta, "So you were thinking about Katniss again, huh?"

Peeta nodded, but didn't say anything. _Should have known they'd figure it out though. I don't exactly talk about other girls so I guess it's pretty obvious. Or maybe it's just super obvious._

"She's in your art class, right?" asked Cato. "I think you mentioned that last week that you two are in the same class."

"Yeah," said Peeta. "With Mr. Odair."

"Well that must be nice," said Marvel. "Sharing the same class with her and all."

"It is," said Peeta, and then added, "But she's not the biggest fan of art, so she doesn't really enjoy drawing or painting assignments as much as I do. She's never been one to like drawing, so I doubt I'll see her in future classes. No way she'd take art again if she doesn't like it to begin with. And she said that she probably won't want to take any more classes anyway."

"Still though," Marvel went on. "Must be nice to share a class together. I mean, you've been in classes together in grade school and middle school, but you've never actually talked to her. At least now you're actually talking, right?"

"That's true," said Peeta, appreciating that Marvel was genuinely trying to sound encouraging toward his friend. "I'm gonna try and help her enjoy art as much as I can and hopefully she'll even find it's a bit of fun. I'd hate for her to go the whole semester thinking it's boring and lame, you know? I'd just like to show her a different side to art and maybe help her look at art in a better light and then that way she can enjoy the class."

"That's a good idea," Cato commented. "Then you two can have even more to talk about."

"Exactly," Marvel threw in.

There was a brief pause, and then Cato asked, "So have you two talked that much so far?"

"A little," was Peeta's answer. "But I still don't know if she'd be ready to be friends with me or not. She's only officially known me for two weeks, so I don't know if it's too soon to ask her or not."

"Well, no harm in trying," said Marvel. "The worst she'll say is no but I doubt she'd say no."

"Yeah, small chance of that happening," said Cato.

"How do you know though?" Peeta questioned. "What if she doesn't feel comfortable enough around me to start actually hanging out with me? Some people like knowing someone for more than a few weeks before spending time with them. Some people don't like jumping right into being friend's with someone till they've gotten to know them a little."

"True," said Marvel, but gave him a smile and added confidently, "But I still don't think she'd say no."

"You got that right," Cato replied with certainty.

"And why's that?" asked Peeta cautiously.

Marvel smiled again and told him straight out, "Because you're a nice guy, Peeta. That's why. I don't think Katniss would say no to you. You're right that you've only been talking to her for two weeks but I bet she's already seen what a nice guy you are. Anybody can see that just by saying 'hi' to you. You're the kind of guy people like chatting with and hanging out with. She got a good first impression of you in class and I'm sure she still thinks of you as a great sort of guy, based on what she saw and heard in a week and a half anyway."

Peeta gave an appreciate smile and said, "Thanks but I...I still don't know. I just don't want to freak her out or anything. Move too fast or ask her for something she's not ready for and—"

"You're too hard on yourself," said Cato. "If there's any guy in this whole school who'd have even the slightest chance of winning that girl's heart, it's you man. No question about it. And don't even think about arguing with me because Marvel agrees and I could ask any other person in this class and they'd agree too. Trust me Peeta. There's no reason why Katniss wouldn't want to be friends with you. Who wouldn't want to be friends with a guy like you? Ask anyone around and they'll call you Mr. Nice."

"Mr. Nice indeed," Marvel agreed.

Peeta gave a silent shrug, and it was clear he was still lost in his thoughts.

"Trust me man," Cato told him. "She wants to be friends with you."

Peeta gave an unsure, but hopeful smile and said quietly, "I hope so."

"Come on, man!" said Cato, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Don't you know you're one of the nicest guys in the school? Heck, if someone like you doesn't have a chance with Katniss then nobody does. Right, Marvel?"

Marvel nodded and said in agreement, "Yup. Either Peeta wins her heart or nobody does."

"Exactly," said Cato.

"Okay," said Peeta slowly, thinking it over. "Let's say you're right, and I'm not saying you are, but let's just go with that. Let's say she does think I'm nice and an alright guy but what if she still doesn't want to be friends with me? There's always the chance that could happen you know. Just because she thinks I'm nice doesn't mean she wants to be friends with me for sure. She might think I'm boring, you know. What if—"

"Peeta, come on!" Cato exclaimed, having to keep himself from shouting. What he wanted was to help boost his friend's self-confidence because there was no denying that Peeta was definitely lacking in it. He was never short of confidence when it came to art and baking but Katniss Everdeen was a whole different story. That was in an entirely different league. "You gotta believe what I said. If there's anyone in the school that—"

"Cato, Marvel and Peeta!" barked Ms. Coin sharply.

The woman was now staring straight at them with her unblinking eyes and by hollering she'd startled almost every student in the class. More than a few pencils had fallen to the floor and the three thought they heard the sound of one's phone dropping out of their grasp. No one could miss the crashing noise as it hit the floor, but Ms. Coin wasn't even bothered by the fact that a student had been texting when they should have been focused on getting their work done. She tapped her pen consistently on the table while glaring at Peeta and his two friends in utter annoyance.

"Yeah, Ms. Coin?" asked Cato innocently, folding his hands together on his desk. He wasn't fooling anyone in thinking that his mind had actually been on solving equations, but that didn't stop him.

"What's going on back there?" she asked in a snippy tone.

"Nothing Ms. Coin," Marvel said reassuringly. "Just talking about math." _Not._

"And how much we love it," Cato threw in. _Not._

"Well, keep it down!" she said grumpily. "Or else I'll have to separate you three. And if those pages aren't finished by the end of the class, I expect to see themdone by tomorrow's class or the three of you will be spending your lunch hour completing it in detention! Is that clear?"

"Yes Ma'am," said Cato and Marvel.

A quick look to their friend and Peeta immediately snapped out of yet another daydream.

"R-right, same here," said Peeta, shaking loose the images that had just entered his head.

Ms. Coin gave them one last irritated glare and then went back to correcting her assignments while trying not to look up every now and then to see if the three really were doing what they said they were which was focusing on their work. To their relief, she didn't glance over to check up on them but just in case, they decided to keep their voices down.

"But, what if what I said is true, Peeta?" Cato continued. He made sure to start writing stuff down in his binder so as to make it look like he really was working on the questions. The last thing he needed was a furious Ms. Coin marching over and demanding that the three separate. "As long as you keep talking to Katniss and being the same nice guy that you've always been, then it wouldn't make sense for her to say 'no' to being friends with you."

"Well, we have art before lunch," Peeta explained. "I wonder if I could maybe ask her then."

"Yes!" both Marvel and Cato exclaimed, but still made sure not to raise their voices. A few of the other students turned their heads in curiosity, but just as quickly returned to finishing their work. They didn't want to get stuck in detention just as much as Peeta, Cato and Marvel didn't.

"I just hope she won't think it's too soon for us to hang out," said Peeta. "I know we've known each other for almost two weeks but maybe I should give it another month or so and then—"

"If you give it another month, pal," said Cato, and chuckled lightly. "Then you'll never become friends with Katniss. Come next month, you'll just want to push it aside even longer and the more you keep doing that, the less chance you'll have of ever getting the courage to ask to hang out with her. You can't keep waiting forever, Peeta. You gotta make a move sooner or later, right? You've waited years to be in the kind of spot you're in right now. Push it off even longer and things will never happen. You gotta be more vocal."

"Yeah, I know," Peeta admitted. "It's just...I'm just so excited having her in my class and Ireally wanna hang out with her and get to know her but I'm just...nervous that she won't want to. I know I've gotta ask at some point and maybe I should this next class, but if she says no then I don't know if I'd ever be able to ask to be friends with her again. How would I even know when to ask her?"

Marvel shook his head and said straight out, "You worry too much."

"No, I don't," argued Peeta defensively. "I just—"

"Mmm, you do," said Marvel, who laughed and twirled his pencil lazily between his fingers. "You're a worry wart."

"That's exactly what he is," Cato agreed with a nod. "A worry wart."

"Oh, come on," said Peeta. "I don't worry that much. That's exaggerating just a bit, don't you think?" _What does he mean by worry wart?_ _I don't worry! I'm just overly cautious but I wouldn't say I'm a worry wart._

Marvel and Cato gave each other a quick look before Cato told him frankly, "Uh...no, actually."

"Okay, okay," said Peeta in surrender. "I worry a lot. But can you understand why I worry a lot? I mean, I've loved Katniss my whole life and now we're finally in the same class together. Well, we've been in a lot of classes growing up actually, but we've never even said a word to each other till now. Can you see why I'd be just a little nervous about asking to be friends with her and possibly getting rejected? Kind of a scary thing."

Cato shrugged and said, "Yeah, maybe you think so, but we both know you've got nothing to worry about. We know how awesome of a guy you are so trust us when we tell you that you and Katniss will be together sooner than you think. Heck, you'll probably even be kissing her soon and—"

"Wow, that's moving a bit fast," Peeta chuckled. "Come on, Cato! We're not even officially friends yet and you're already talking about kissing?" _She'd never wanna talk to me again if I went and did that!_ _Not the best idea, Cato._

He shrugged again and said, "Sorry, just thinking ahead. But you will be kissing her eventually, don't worry."

"Well, right now I'm just focusing on becoming friends with her," Peeta replied. _Exactly. Friendship before romance, guys. One step at a time. Slow and steady._

"So what classes do you have before art?" asked Marvel.

"Just free," was Peeta's answer. "I got that, and then art's before lunch. Then I got biology last class."

"Oh, then you've tons of time," said Marvel. "A full hour to decide what you're gonna say to her. You'll think of at least something to say by then. And if you don't, then at least remember to say hi."

"I'm not thatnervous, Marvel!" said Peeta, having to keep from smiling. _Okay, I am pretty nervous but no way am I chickening out._ "I'm just...wondering how I'll ask her if she'd like to hang out with me."

"Um, how about 'would you like to hang out with me?'" offered Cato with a chuckle, and gave Peeta a friendly cuff on the shoulder.

Peeta shook his head and responded, "Ha-hah, very funny. I never would have thought to say it like that."

"Just kidding," said Cato teasingly. "I'm sure you'll be alright to ask her. Just don't let your nerves get in the way. Think of it this way: You've come so far and waited so long to talk to her and spend time with her that you can't let a silly thing like nerves get in the way. Simple as that. Just keep telling yourself that and you should be fine."

Peeta rolled Cato's words around in his head, and then nodded silently.

"Or," Cato went on. "Marvel or I could always go and tell her that you'd like to hang out and—"

"Uh, no," said Peeta with a smile. "That's okay. Appreciate it but...I think I'll be able to ask her myself."

"You're afraid we'd try and embarrass ya, aren't you?" said Cato with a laugh.

"No, not really," Peeta told him. "But I don't want her thinking I'm so nervous around her that I can't even ask her myself if she'd like to hang out with me. I'm not too sure that would look so good."

"No, probably not," Marvel agreed. "You'll be okay. It's just the girl you've had a crush on for eleven years. No pressure."

Peeta gave Marvel a long stare, and then said, "Thanks Marvel. You pretty much summed that up perfectly." _Eleven years of waiting and now I'm finally moving in to try and be friends with her. Yeah...I'd say I'm feeling some pressure. Some butterflies too. Never forget those._

"No problem" Marvel smiled, and almost burst out laughing right then and there. "That's what friends are for."

"Yes, I can see that," remarked Peeta in amusement. He then opened up his book to see how many questions he could get through in the remaining ten minutes of class before heading down to biology. He knew he'd be lucky to get even five questions done, but at least it'd be five less questions he'd have to worry about when he got home.

He was wondering if he ought to try and get them done on free and then that way he'd haveno math homework, but he usually didn't spend his free doing homework unless he knew he'd have a lot of it. He decided he'd wait to finish them when he got home and go spend his hour in the cafeteria. He was also hoping to hang out with his best friend Delly and ask for her opinion on the situation. She, like Marvel and Cato, knew that he'd been crushing on Katniss since practically forever and he felt sure if there was anyone that could ensure him things would work out, it was her. She always knew the right things to say and never once said a thing to Peeta that suggested to him that she was lying. Never once would Delly Cartwright lie for she was one, if not the most honest and truthful person he knew.

While Peeta had been spending his hour in math chatting with Cato and Marvel, Katniss had been in the cafeteria which was the place she always went to on her free. Sometimes she'd hang out with her friends Glimmer and Clove, other times she'd be joined by Madge and Johanna. Today, she wasn't sitting with any of these people. There was one other person she usually sat with and he was a guy who'd been her best friend since she was twelve years old – and that was Gale Hawthorne.

The two were seated at the far back end of the cafeteria and were each snacking on a bag of chips. As always, Katniss had barbeque while Gale had gone with ketchup. They'd been telling the other about how their first two weeks of high school had went and how they were liking or disliking their classes.

"History's kind of a bore," said Gale. "And the teacher's even worse. Have you ever even met Mr. Cray?"

"No," said Katniss. "Why, is he that bad?"

"Bad enough," said Gale with a roll of his eyes. "It's like the guy expects you to have all your work done by the end of class and if you don't, he thinks it's because you were lazy and slacking off. It doesn't even matter if you work hard and always pay attention either. If the work isn't done, then he think it's because you're just not doing it. He probably thinks our whole class is nothing but slackers. He might not say it, but I betcha anything that's what he thinks. The guy's crazy."

"Wow, doesn't sound like a great teacher," Katniss observed, feeling grateful not to have him as one of her teachers. "Glad I don't have him for history."

"Yeah, you're lucky," Gale told her, reaching into his bag of chips. "But your classes are okay? Math's obviously not bad and you're doing alright in history? Well, you're probably doing better than me since you're not stuck with Mr. Cray. Sucks we're not in the same class."

"Yeah, history's okay," said Katniss with a shrug. "Mr. Paylor seems alright, and I've got Madge in that class so at least I'm not alone. And Johanna's in my math class, though she's not the biggest fan of math so she usually just spends the hour texting or doing anything other than algebra. But I still like having her in the class, even if she doesn't try and get some of the work done. The company's nice."

Gale laughed and said, "Yeah, that's Johanna for ya. Always leaves homework till after class. So how's art been? I know you said you don't really have any friends in that class, but other than that is it alright? You're not really a huge fan of drawing so I can't imagine how boring it must be for ya."

"Yeah, I'm not really all that fond of art," Katniss admitted, but then went on to say, "But I guess I'm not really alone. I mean, there is someone I sit with and we usually talk and work on assignments together and—"

"Oh?" said Gale, and gave a curious grin that only continued to grow as he spoke. "And who's that?"

"It's just a guy," she said casually, hoping he'd think it was no big deal. Deep down though, she knew the chances of him not bombarding her with further questions were all too slim. Of course he'd want to know more about the guy she sat next to in art and no doubt he'd ask every question that sprang into his sceptical mind.

She hated even discussing guys in general with Gale because she knew he'd been crazy in love with her since he'd first met her that day back in the woods when she'd been twelve years old. Ever since, he'd been begging and insisting that the two get together and take their relationship even further. He felt having been friends with her for four years had been plenty long enough of just being friends. He was tired and annoyed of just being friends with her and wanted nothing more than for the two to get romantic with each other.

But as he knew all too well, Katniss simply didn't share the same feelings that he had for her and it killed him inside. He also knew that unlike other girls, she'd never grown up being one to concern herself with guys and relationships but rather, had always been independent. Never had she been one to worry about finding a boyfriend and it was rare that she ever truly found herself 'crushing' on somebody else. She hadn't even developed feelings for a guy she'd been close with for four years, and Gale could never understand why she didn't want to open up her heart to him, but there was no arguing that she didn't feel the same way. But despite how painful it was to have to accept it, not once would he ever roll over, give up and let the girl he loved slip out of his grasp. He'd wait forever to have her to himself if he absolutely had to, but he was getting frustrated and restless at having to wait solong.

"A guy, huh?" asked Gale, fighting to keep from screaming out at the very thought of another guy creeping so effortlessly into her life. _So some guy thinks he's gonna just get lucky and snatch up the girl_ _I've been obsessing over for four years? We'll see about that._ In a much calmer tone, he said, "And does this guy have a name?"


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

 **SEPTEMBER**

Katniss debated about whether or not to continue, but she knew it really didn't matter if she chose to or not. No matter how carefully she chose her words, she knew all too well what her friend's reaction would be. Gale would always be hoping that she'd want to be with him, so it made no difference whether or not he knew she was talking with other guys. He'd just accept it, complain about it but he'd do what he'd been doing for the past four years which was to wait and hope she'd eventually fall for him as opposed to someone else. It also angered her though because she wasn't even a hundred percent sure what she felt for Peeta. She'd only known the guy for two weeks, so it was still early to truly decide where her feelings stood. And having grown up rarely crushing on boys and concerning herself with romance and relationships like most girls did, she was leaning more towards the idea that Peeta was only a partner in art and only that. But with how complex and complicated her mind proved to be, she wasn't entirely sure if she'd succeed in thinking of this boy as only a fellow classmate. Only time would tell.

"His name's Peeta Mellark," said Katniss finally, keeping her voice calm in the hopes that Gale wouldn't go jumping to his feet and demand that she tell him more about this guy.

"That name sounds familiar," said Gale, and thought for a moment before saying, "Oh, I remember. He's the baker's son, isn't he? The baker in town who makes all those incredible cakes and according to pretty much everyone, bakes the best bread around."

"I guess so," said Katniss slowly, for she felt like her mind was starting to drift off and she was fighting to keep that from happening. "I kind of forgot that's who he was. I've seen him enough times when Prim and I go to buy bread and sometimes cakes, but it never even hit me that's who he was till you just mentioned that. I'm surprised I didn't remember that when I first saw him in class."

Gale laughed in amusement and asked, "What's the matter? Been distracted lately?"

 _Yeah, I'll bet you've been distracted alright_ , he thought venomously. _That baker boy is pulling you right into his grasp. He better be careful and make sure he doesn't get too close to her...or else he'll get a goddam fist in the mouth_. _You think you're just gonna grab hold of her Mellark when you barely even know her? Well, you've got another thing coming._

Katniss shrugged and said, "I don't know. I guess I'm just trying to focus on my classes, you know? Make sure I actually do decent in art. The last thing I need is to have to repeat the class because I didn't practice enough and didn't improve even a little. Going through the class once is enough for me."

"And does Peeta like art?" asked Gale casually. "I mean, if he's great at art than maybe you'd have somebody to help you?"

"He is," she admitted. "He's crazy about it. So hopefully I'll come out with a passing grade if he can help me out and make sure my drawings don't completely suck. At least if someone can help me I won't have to feel so embarrassed about not being a good drawer."

 _Yeah, I'm sure he'll help you out_ _alright_ , thought Gale furiously. _He'll crawl right over to you and do whatever the hell you ask him to so long as he gets his greedy little hands on you. And I betcha anything you're gonna fall for his little act and just think he's the greatest angel in the world...when all he really is is worthless trash. I'm the one you should be with! You're meant to be with Gale Hawthorne...not_ _Peeta Mellark! Why can't you realize that? Open your eyes, Catnip!_

"Well, there's some good news," said Gale and forced himself to break out in a smile, though it felt like his entire face would start ripping in half if he went on smiling for more than a few seconds. "You got a buddy in art who can give you a hand. Guess you've got nothing to worry about then. You'll pass the class with flying colors and will never have to see another class in art again."

He then paused briefly, before adding quietly, "Just wish I was in your class."

"But, Gale, you don't even like art," Katniss shot back. "You hate it even more than I do. Even when we were kids, you never liked drawing. You'd always say you'd rather go for an hour long run and tire yourself out than draw for even five minutes, so I doubt you'd even enjoy a class of it."

"You don't know that," countered Gale.

"I know you well enough to know that you've never liked art," said Katniss flatly.

"Who's to say I'd hate this class though?"

"You would, Gale," Katniss told him. "Trust me. You're just not into art."

"Doesn't matter," he mumbled. "So long as we shared a class together, what difference would that make?"

Katniss sighed and answered, "There's no way you'd enjoy it. I just know that. You'd spend one hour in there and wish you'd never signed up for that class. I can see it now."

"Yeah, but still," he argued, keeping his voice calm and under control. "It just sucks that the only class you and I share is free. At least if I was in art with you, you wouldn't be so...alone." _So I hate drawing? Who cares, Katniss! I'd have my whole semester be art classes if I knew you and I'd be together. You really don't get how I think, do you? Suffering through art would be nothing if you were there with me._

"I'm not that alone though," she reminded him. "I've got—"

"Yeah, I know," he snapped, giving her a look that told her he was clearly hurting. "You've got Peeta _._ You don't have to remind me, Catnip." _You keep saying that name and I swear I'll lose it. You want me to go find him and beat him to a pulp? Knock his head into the wall? Don't think I won't...because I will._

"Gale, we're not even friends," said Katniss tiredly. "All we ever talk about in class is art anyway. We haven't even talked about ourselves or anything like that, so it's not like we know each other. We haven't talked about anything personal or anything like that. I don't just go revealing that kind of information to people I hardly know. You know that."

"Still," he said under his breath. "Should be me in your class."

Katniss sighed in exhaustion and with her voice barely above a whisper, asked "Gale, are you ever gonna stop this?"

He shook his head and answered truthfully, "No." He then softened his voice and said with dead seriousness, "You know that Katniss. You know I'll never stop hoping for the day you and I can be together. I'll wait forever if I have to. I've been waiting four years and I'll wait four more if I have to, if I thought we might have a chance to become more."

Gale paused only briefly before adding, "I mean that, Katniss. I'll wait forever if I have to."

"I wouldn't say that," she argued, remaining just as calm. "You've been bugging me pretty bad for the past four years, Gale. You sure you'd wait forever, because that's a pretty long time?"

"Yes," said Gale quickly. "I wouldn't like it but I'd wait that long. Hands down I would."

 _You think I'm waiting a lifetime, Catnip?_ was all he could think in annoyance. _Well, you're wrong, because I'm not._ _What would that even do for me? You and I'll both be gone by then and then the only place we'll truly be together is in our graves...and I'm not letting that happen. No friggen' way._

Katniss didn't answer right away. She just sat there with her head down while staring at her hands and occasionally tapping her fingers. There was no question that Gale was a great friend and would be there if ever she needed him but it was irritating having him ask her so much if she felt romantically about him. He knew just as well as she did what that answer was – and that was no. Sometimes he wouldn't believe her and would try and convince her to reveal her true feelings, but she'd argue that her feelings didn't run any deeper than friendship, but it was like that was never good enough for Gale. Either that or he just couldn't accept the fact that she only thought of him as a friend and nothing more.

 _Calm down, Hawthorne!_ he thought, and could feel the burning fire inside him fighting to get out, but no way was he going to let the flames spread and get any worse. _Just stay calm and don't let her think it bothers you that much. Just pretend they're strangers to each other and that's all they'll ever be. Keep...it...together_!

"I'm sorry, Katniss," he said softly, hoping she'd fall for it and not think he was bluffing. "It's just...I just care about you so much. I just wouldn't want to see you get hurt or anything, that's all. You know that."

She gave a small smile in understanding and said quietly, "I know, and you know that I'm glad you're my best friend. You just...you just gotta stop bugging me so much, okay? I know you really want us to have a relationship and all but I...I just don't know if I'm ready for one. Who knows? Maybe eventually I willhave feelings for you and want us to be together but I can't promise anything either. But if anything does happen, until then can we just keep being friends?"

He nodded, kept his smile and told her, "Of course." He then gave a light chuckle and added, "But I don't know how easy it's gonna be if I ever do see you with somebody else. I'll probably turn into some kind of overly protective brother and want to know everything about the guy just to make sure he's a decent guy and not seeking to take advantage of you or anything.

"Don't worry, Gale," she said reassuringly, and chuckled as well. "I doubt I'm even gonna get in a relationship anytime soon. I think I'll just keep my head in the books and focus on getting through grade ten and then the rest of high school. There's always time for relationships later on but right now I'd like to get through high school first."

"That's a good plan," said Gale in false agreement. "Maybe I ought to do the same. It's my last year in high school so maybe I should focus on getting through and graduating."

"Alright," said Katniss with finality. "How about this then: I'll avoid getting into a relationship and focus on my studies and you stop worrying so much about me and focus on your studies. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," said Gale.

"But I do mean that, Gale," said Katniss seriously. "You really will not bug me so much, right?"

"I know that," said Gale in just serious of a tone. "But I don't know how great of a job I'm gonna do at that, Katniss. So if there is the odd time I do nag at you a bit, please know that I really am trying not to. If I do get a little mad or fly off the handle it's only because I care about you. It's just...hard being friends with a girl you care about so much when you want so much more with her. That's all."

It didn't surprise her when he then looked lovingly into her eyes while saying with evident passion, "I just love you so much."

"And I know that," Katniss told him, trying not to betoo hard on him. She knew that Gale did care a ton about her, and that he probably would try his hardest to be content with their friendship. But it must not have been easy for him to pretend that he truly was okay with it when that wasn't exactly true. She didn't want to be harsh on him because he was a reliable and incredible friend and he'd always been there for her, but sometimes she wished he'd accept their friendship and not worry so much about getting romantic with each other.

"Well, free's almost over," said Gale, checking his watch. "I better get to history. Gotta touch up on my knowledge of Twelve's past. What class you got next?"

"Math," said Katniss. "I think Ms. Coin said we're gonna be doing a lot of work today, so hopefully I'll be able to get all that done and not have any homework."

"Oh, I'm sure you will," said Gale with a knowing wink. "Everyone knows how much of a wiz you are when it comes to that stuff. You just fly right through it like it's two plus two or something."

"It kind of is though. Once you get the hang of it, it's really nothing."

Gale's eyes widened and all he could do was shake his head in wonder. "Right. Well...can't say that'll ever happen for me but that's awesome for you. Keep at it then, Mathematics Expert. How's that for a nickname?"

Katniss smiled and said, "I try to be." She got up out of her chair and gave Gale one final look before saying, "Guess I'll see you later then."

Gale got up, turned to leave and called over his shoulder, "See ya, Catnip."

"Not gonna call me Mathematic Expert?" she asked jokingly.

"Oh, right," said Gale. He cleared his throat, gave her a wave and said in a dramatically funny tone, "Later...Mathematics Expert."

The last sound he heard as he was leaving was Katniss chuckling.

The longer Peeta went on staring at the clock on the wall, the more it seemed like it wasn't even moving. He'd been checking it for the past few minutes and was seconds away from telling Ms. Coin that she'd need a new clock when he finally saw one of the hands move. Ever so slowly it had budged from its position. What a relief. He felt that sitting through an hour of math was torture enough but he couldn't imagine what he would do if he were stuck there formore than an hour. He figured he'd probably just zone out and start daydreaming about other things and he had a pretty good idea as to what some of those other things might have been.

When math was finally over and the bell that signalled a change of classes had rung, students were hurrying out the doors to get to their next class. It was always a huge relief to hear that bell because it meant they no longer had to sit and listen to the never-ending voice of Ms. Coin that seemed to drag on forever without ever stopping. Cato, Marvel and Peeta were out that door just as quickly as everyone else. Cato and Marvel were both off to English and wished Peeta good luck with talking to Katniss.

"And don't worry," said Cato encouragingly, and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "If you just ask her if she'd like to hang out, I'm sure she'll agree to. Why wouldn't she?"

"Exactly," said Marvel. "So quit worrying Worry Wart. You're gonna be fine."

"You guys think it's so easy though," Peeta explained. "But it's not. Girls aren't as easy as all that. You can never quite tell what's going on in their heads and it only makes you wonder if what they're thinking about you is good or bad. They're very...mysterious _._ Well, okay not all of them are. Delly's not a mystery at all but someone like Katniss is about the most mysterious girl in this whole school!"

"You don't know that for sure," Cato chuckled. "You're just letting your nerves get the best of you again, like you always do. Anyway, we gotta go. Good luck with it, Mellark!" The two then turned and made their way down the hall, took a right and were on their way to English, but not before calling over their shoulder, "You'll be fine!"

Peeta was left standing there and he remained there for just a short moment to roll their words around once more in his head. He wanted so badly to believe that what they were saying was all but true and that Katniss really would agree to hang out with him but that wasn't something they could guarantee. They didn't know Katniss very well and couldn't read her mind and reveal what she currently thought about Peeta Mellark. It was one of the mysteries he'd have to try and unravel himself and the only way he could make that happen was to keep talking to her, try and make conversation with her and above all, go even further and ask her if she'd like to become friends.

 _If you can just do that_ , _then there shouldn't be too much to worry about after that. Things would probably happen themselves and once you two are friends, then maybe she'll get a better idea of what kind of guy you are and maybe...just maybe she'll even love you? No...that's moving way too fast, Mellark. Become friends with her first and then wait and see what happens. You're jumping way ahead of yourself here. There's still always the chance she might not feel that way about you, or maybe she'll wanna take things slow and...and maybe Marvel is right when he said I'm a worry wart._

He made his way downstairs and walked over to the cafeteria and hoped that Delly could put his mind at rest and restore his confidence. It wasn't that he wasn't a confident guy because most times he did feel confident, but when it came to Katniss Everdeen, his nerves almost always took over and filled his mind with doubt. He felt lucky to have a friend like Delly who was always there for him and could constantly reassure him that he was worrying too much and things would most likely turn out okay.

When he reached the cafeteria, he entered and when he glanced over to his right, he saw that she was already sitting and waiting for him. It didn't surprise him because Delly almost always got there before him, since all her classes were downstairs so all she had to do was walk less than five minutes and she was at the cafeteria. Peeta, on the other hand, had to make his way down the flight of stairs and then make the long trip down the hall where he'd finally reach the cafeteria to find Delly already sitting and patiently waiting for him.

When he walked up to her, she gave him a warm smile and said in her cheery voice, "Hey Peeta."

He took a seat across from her and said, "Hey Delly. I see you beat me here again, as usual."

She gave a tiny shrug and responded with, "It helps when I don't have far to walk."

"That's true."

"How was math?" she asked.

"It was okay," Peeta answered, and then chuckled, "Still boring as always, but it's actually not that bad. Not as bad as I thought it would be."

"That's good," said Delly. "I know you're not overly keen on math, but at least you're trying to have a positive attitude."

He smiled and said a bit more quietly, "I was uh...actually hoping to talk to you about something."

"Sure, Peeta," she said kindly, giving him her full attention. "What did you want to talk about?"

Peeta hesitated for only a second before telling her, "I wanted to talk to you about...Katniss. I know. Not much of a surprise there. You probably saw that coming."

"Oh," said Delly, and then smiled. Just as Peeta had guessed, she'd indeed had a feeling he'd been going to say just that. As Peeta's best friend, it was like she could see into his mind and read all his thoughts in a way that could best be described as effortlessly. "Okay. Anything specific you want to talk about?"

"Sort of," said Peeta. "You know this already but we're in the same art class, and of course I'm thrilled about that. And it's been great the past two weeks. We've been getting along great and I've been trying to make her enjoy art a little more and see it in a more positive light but I..."

"But what, Peeta?" asked Delly softly.

Peeta sighed quietly and told her, "I really want to ask if she'd like to hang out with me, and maybe even become friends with me but I'm just so scared that she'll say no. I've got art next class so I was hoping I'd be able to ask her then but I keep thinking she'll just think the whole idea is silly. She's a pretty mysterious girl and it's hard to tell what she might think of me, you know? I really want to think she sees me as an okay, friendly enough guy but what if she doesn't, Delly?"

She shook her head, gave another smile and told him, "Peeta, you're one of the nicest guys in the school. There'd be no reason for Katniss to disagree on that. Ask anyone around and they'll see Peeta Mellark is the definition of nice. The only person doubting that is you."

He smiled in appreciation and said, "She's a puzzle though, Delly. I'm still trying to figure out just what she thinks of me and if she'd like to get to know me better."

"Well, it seems there's only one way to find that out," said Delly.

"And what's that?" asked Peeta, though he pretty much already knew what the answer would be.

"Simple," said Delly. "You talk to her and ask her if she'd like to be friends with you. You'll never know if you don't ask, Peeta. Maybe she really is a puzzle but you'll never figure her out if you don't find out how she feels about you, or if she'd like to spend more time with you."

"That's true," he admitted. "And I really would like to ask her in art."

"Then ask her," said Delly gently. "I think your only problem here is that you're so afraid of the worst happening. Just try not to worry so much and pretend that you're asking her a simple question like what her favourite color is."

Peeta chuckled lightly and said, "If only it were as easy as that, Dell. If things were that easy, we'd be spending every lunch hour together by now."

"It can be though!" she told him optimistically. "You just gotta pretend that's exactly what you're asking her. If you can do that, then it'll be as easy as pie, I promise."

"Well, you're pretty much right about everything," said Peeta, already feeling better. "I'll just do that then. I'll pretend I'm asking her what her favourite color is and it'll be easy as that."

Delly put a hand on Peeta's shoulder and told him confidently, "Don't worry, Peeta. I've known you long enough to know that if there's any guy in this school that can win a girl's heart, it's you. I know you might not agree or that you might think Katniss is a complicated puzzle, but you're forgetting that you're somewhat of a puzzle yourself."

"Me?" he said in surprise. The thought of himself seeming like a puzzle to anyone else had never occurred to him till now. "How am Ia puzzle?"

Delly beamed and told him, "Think about it. You've always been kind of a shy, quiet guy, so anybody who doesn't know you would automatically wonder what you're like. It's hard knowing what a person's like when they're as quiet as you. And you've got a pretty busy life. You help your parents at the bakery; you're a student; you want to become an artist; you've had a crush on Katniss Everdeen since you were five years old...and I could keep going. You see? There's a lot more going on in your life than you realize, just like with Katniss. She's a puzzle to you because her life's a mystery to you but put yourself in her shoes. You're probably just as much of a puzzle to her as she is to you."

Peeta was silent for a minute, taking in what Delly had just explained. He didn't have to think about it for long because her words made absolute sense. Of course Katniss would see him as just as much of a puzzle when she hardly knew a thing about him. He'd been so busy viewing Katniss as a bunch of complex pieces of a giant puzzle that he hadn't stopped to think about how complicatedhe might seem to her. All she knew so far about him was that he loved art and that his family ran a bakery but other than that, he was a complete mystery to her, just as she was to him.

"You're right," he said with a smile. "Guess we're both mysteries to each other then, huh?"

Delly nodded and said, "Absolutely. And if you're curious enough about her and would like to know more about her, then I can't see why she wouldn't be just as curious about you. Bring two curious people together and who knows what'll happen."

"Maybe," said Peeta, sounding unsure, but then a smile crossed his face and he couldn't help but ask in excitement, "You really think she might be curious about me?"

"I can't see why not," was Delly's response. "If she thinks you're a nice guy then I'm assuming she'd want to get to know you better."

Peeta thought that made perfect enough sense. He only hoped that Katniss was the kind of person who was interested in getting to know other people better, guys in particular. In all the years he'd watched her, he'd never once seen her with any other guy, except for Gale, but he knew the two weren't together and that she only thought of him as a friend. So the fact that she'd never actually been with a guy in the romantic sense made him feel a bit...nervous _._ But he'd spent too many years of his life being nervous; it was now time to put his nerves and doubts aside and forget about them entirely.

It was time to strengthen his confidence.

"Thanks, Delly," Peeta told her sincerely. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd be fine," she told him with a chuckle. "You're just nervous around Katniss, but you've only known her for two weeks. The more you talk to her and spend time with her, the less nervous you'll be. And trust me Peeta, I have a feeling things will work out just fine for you."

"I sure hope so," said Peeta with a smile, and then turned for the cafeteria doors. Before leaving, he made sure to call back to her, "Thanks again!"

"Anytime Peeta," was her answer.

While Peeta had spent his hour of free talking with Delly, Katniss had been sitting in history while listening to her teacher Mr. Paylor ramble on about the various presidents District Twelve had had over the years. It was one of the most boring topics in history because it felt like every president was an identical copy of the other. They all said the same things, felt the same things and believed in the same visions. Their philosophies were only replicas of those before them so it was no surprise that most students found the whole class tediously repetitive. It was rare that history ever got interesting. The odd time it did get a bit engaging was when they'd learn more about the surrounding Districts and what their lifestyles were like. But for the most part, Mr. Paylor focused on District Twelve and hardly ever mentioned things about the other Districts.

Their assignment for the hour was to flip through the textbook and answer as many questions about one of the earlier presidents as possible. As they'd anticipated, whatever wasn't finished would be for homework. It was one of the more "boring" and "dull" presidents, so the questions were of course just as boring and dull. But Katniss was lucky to have Madge in her class because she'd always try and make ridiculous but amusing jokes about what was written in the book, or things presidents had once said. And because Mr. Paylor wasn't one of the stricter teachers of the school, he often didn't mind a bit of laughter in his class, so long as the work got done in the end.

"Can this get any more boring?" asked Madge, closing her book and pushing it to the side. "I'd rather a dart in the eyes."

"I know," Katniss agreed. "I'd rather be in art right now, and I don't even like art."

"Oh, I know that," Madge laughed. "You've told me that plenty of times. So how's that class going for you, anyway? It's not too much torture, is it? You're not drooling on your work yet, are you? If you are, let me know. I'll drop by and keep an eye on you, make sure your stuff's not getting soaked."

Katniss chuckled at Madge's remark and replied, "No, I'm surviving. Kind of sucks that the class runs all year but at least I have a partner to help me."

"A partner?" asked Madge. "Well, that's good. Do you know them?"

"No," said Katniss. "I've only ever met him once and that was a long time ago, but he ended up in the same art class as me. He agreed to help me out with this class if I give him a hand in math, since math isn't his thing."

"What's his name?" asked Madge with curiosity.

"Peeta Mellark."

"Oh, him?" said Madge, instantly recognizing the name. "The baker's son, huh? Interesting."

"How's that interesting?" asked Katniss, confused.

"Well, because he's so great at decorating cakes and all," Madge explained. "You've seen the cakes in the bakery window. It's interesting that he gets to be the one to help you in art. If you've got someone like him giving you a hand, then there's no way you could fail that class. I'd be shocked if you did."

"I guess so," said Katniss, and then without even realizing it, found herself staring over at the classroom window. She wasn't sure why, but she was remembering back to yesterday when she'd spotted the lone dandelion in the grass and how she had thought of Peeta. It was coming back to her now and she found herself for the strangest reason in which she couldn't explain...actually looking forward to going to art next class.

 _I don't know_ , she thought, puzzled. _Maybe I'm not. I don't really know what I'm thinking right now_. _Well, at least that class will be better than this one, that's for sure. Anything's better than history._

"Katniss?" asked Madge. She noticed Katniss had zoned out and was busy staring over at the window with a look that told her that Katniss was miles away and couldn't hear a word that was being said to her. It wasn't often that her friend got distracted, so when she did, it definitely got her mind questioning what she might be pondering about.

 _Why would I want to go to art though_? _I don't even like drawing, so it's not like there's anything fun to look forward to. And I don't really know Peeta all that well. We've only been talking for two weeks and I still don't know who he is. But I guess maybe I'm a little...I don't know_ —

"Katniss!"

Katniss shook her head, turned and looked at Madge to see she was watching her with a truly confused expression. Obviously she hadn't heard Madge saying her name which confirmed she really had been lost in her thoughts.

"Earth to Katniss!" she laughed, while giving her pencil a twirl. "You home in there?"

Katniss blinked, and told her, "Yeah, just thinking."

"About what?" asked Madge, then chuckled, "How much you hate art?"

"No," said Katniss. "Well, a little, I guess. I was just thinking about—"

"Oh, I get it," said Madge with a knowing wink. "You're thinking about Peeta, aren't you?"

"No!" said Katniss quickly. "I was thinking about the...assignment we'll be doing next class."

"Right," said Madge slowly, as if she knew this were all but a lie. "And you expect me to believe that?"

"I'm not thinking about him, Madge," said Katniss in defence. _Why do people always think that? I could have been thinking about anything! Absolutely anything. Getting lost in thought doesn't mean your mind is on guys, and I've never been one to worry about guys anyway._ "What makes you think I'd be thinking about him anyway?"

"Well, because you didn't hear me calling you just now," was Madge's logical response. "You were clearly thinking about something and I bet you anything your mind was on Peeta Mellark. Why else would you have had that look on your face?"

"Okay, so what if I was?" said Katniss. _Might as well humour her. She'll just keep it going if I don't._ "I'm allowed to think about people, aren't I?"

"Of course," said Madge, but then gave a small grin and said, "But the fact that you had that look on your face and you were thinking about Peeta? Hmm...I think it's safe to say that Miss Everdeen's been paid a visit by Cupid himself. Got struck with one of his arrows of love and now she's found herself a little crush and his name is—"

"I don't like him, Madge!" said Katniss seriously. "I just met the guy two weeks ago. I don't fall in love that fast. Look at Gale and me. We've known each other for years and I still don't have feelings for him, so what makes you think I'd suddenly fall in love with a guy I just met? Don't you think it would make more sense for me to like someone I've known longer, and I've definitely known Gale longer? Peeta's still pretty much a stranger to me."

"Maybe, but that's Gale," Madge cleverly pointed out. "Just because you don't have feelings for him doesn't mean that'll stop you from having feelings forother guys. Peeta perhaps?" She added this last part with another amused grin, as if she could read her friend's mind and pull out all the bits and pieces she knew Katniss was keeping hidden.

"I don't like him, Madge," Katniss repeated firmly. "I'm just...glad to have him in my class. If not for his help, I don't even know if I'd come out of art with a decent mark. Right now, all I'm worried about is getting through art and coming out with an okay mark."

After a short pause, Katniss added with a slight grin of her own, "Sorry to disappoint you though, Undersee. I know you love telling people you were right, but you're not right about this, no matter how much you think you are."

"Oh, I am," said Madge, and still the grin hadn't left her face. "You just won't admit it."

"Sorry, Madge," said Katniss with finality, and picked up her pencil to get back to working on their assignment. "But that's not how it is."

Madge's only response was to smile as if she knew there was more going on in Katniss's mind than she was letting on, but she didn't press her. If Katniss said that she had no feelings for Peeta, then all she could do was believe her friend. But deep down, she was wondering if Katniss might have finally discovered a guy she just might find herself curious about. Having known her for as long as she had, she knew Katniss was the kind of girl that wasn't one to go crazy over guys or feel desperate for a boyfriend, but there was always the chance that some special person would come along and find their way into one's heart. At just the right time and at just the right place, that special someone could appear magically and seemingly out of nowhere.

 _Who knows?_ Madge thought, while she and Katniss returned to working on their assignment. _You might be stubborn and one to deny things but_... _maybe you've found him, Katniss?_

"And anyway," Katniss continued. "I already told Gale I wasn't interested in relationships right now. I told him I wouldn't think about getting in a relationship and would instead focus on my studies, and he told me he wouldn't bug me so much and would focus on his studies."

"But if you do like someone," Madge told her. "Isn't it up to you to decide if you'd like to be with them or not?"

"It is," Katniss agreed. "But I don't think I'm ready for a relationship right now. I think I'd just rather focus on school and make sure my grades are alright. Besides, I've got my whole life to worry about dating. It's not like I'm in any rush."

"True," said Madge.

"Besides," Katniss went on, her eyes leaving one question to get started on the next. "I don't know if I'm gonna worry too much about dating. I've never been one to worry much about guys. It's just never been that important to me. I don't know. I guess I just...like my independence."

And that was the end of that conversation.

They spent the remainder of the class working through the history questions but Katniss couldn't help wonder to herself, _is Madge right though?_ _Do I have some kind of feelings for Peeta? No! I just met the guy. There's no way I'd feel anything for him this soon. Yeah, that's it. Madge is just trying to convince you that you do have feelings for him, but you know that you don't, and that's all that matters. Don't let other people try to convince you of things you know aren't true._

When there was all but one minute left of class, without even really realizing it, Katniss found herself thinking, _I wonder what Peeta's brought to art class_? She didn't have long to wonder though because soon the bell was ringing and within seconds, she'd left history and was now heading down the hall towards art.

As she walked, she recalled what she and her partner had worked on over the last two weeks. She remembered that first day in class where she'd sketched him and he'd sketched her, and how impressed she'd been of his finished piece. In the days that had followed, they'd completed multiple sketches, all of which had included horses galloping across a grassy plain; ships sailing on an endless sea; a beautiful garden that held an abundance of luscious, tasty vegetables; a lone man sitting by a campfire, playing a much-loved song on his guitar; a young boy racing through the woods with his dog trailing behind him; a fearsome dragon guarding an abandoned castle of treasures and riches; a breezy autumn day with leaves of red, yellow and orange fluttering to the ground, and a tranquil meadow filled with butterflies of every kind.

It had been the second week when Mr. Odair had introduced the next topic of the semester, a form of art he referred to as 'Cut, Paste and Place.' The idea of it had been rather simple and Katniss quickly found herself feeling better about this than she had about sketching. All one needed to do was decide on a picture, cut and collect parts from magazines and then bring them together to craft the desired image. In those five days, she and Peeta had cut, pasted and placed to create photos of a Siberian tiger drinking from a stream; a stunning rainbow with the legendary pot of gold waiting at the end; exploding fireworks that lit up and brought color to a darkened sky; a pine tree covered in a blanket of snow; a family of turtles wobbling along a sandy beach; a ladybug landing on a child's outstretched hand; a sleepy cat curled up in front of a fireplace; a scrumptious turkey dinner; crows cawing at a barely intimidating scarecrow, and an antique vase filled with various flowers.

As to what she'd be diving into for her third week in art, she could only wonder.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

 **SEPTEMBER**

Peeta had left his locker, having put his bag and three books away and was now on his way to the cafeteria. He wasn't alone though. Joining him for lunch was Katniss, and after having worried and fretted that she would refuse, he'd finally gotten what he wanted, which was a chance to spend time with her outside of art class. Of course he enjoyed the time he shared with her in class – sitting next to her and helping her with paintings and sketches and sharing laughs with her– but he was thrilled that she'd accepted his invitation to come and have lunch with him. It meant that the two could discuss things other than art. They could talk about themselves, their lives and anything else that popped into their heads. Peeta was beyond excited because it would be the first, real conversation the two would have that wasn't in art class, and wasn't focused on painting or drawing. It would be just the two of them – Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen – chatting together while eating lunch.

 _Eleven years I've wanted to sit down and talk with her_ ," thought Peeta as the two made their way down the hall. _And now I'm finally going to. I can't believe I'm gonna be able to talk to her about things other than art! Maybe she'll want to hear about my life in the bakery. Maybe she'll want me to talk about how I decorate the cakes and how that influenced my love for art. Hmm...I hope an hour will be long enough to cover everything I'd like to talk to her about. Well, even if it's not, maybe we could hang out again some other time?_

When the two walked through the open doors of the cafeteria and went inside, they saw it was pretty much packed. It was a fairly large-sized room and held in total about thirty tables, all of which had been taken. They searched every table in the room and found not a single seat available. No surprise there since students rushed there the second they heard the last class bell go off in hopes of beating the expected long line-ups. No one liked standing in line, especially when those at the back felt like it was moving annoyingly slow. Sometimes the line would get so long that it would extend right out of the cafeteria itself. As they glanced around, they saw guys and girls were gathered in groups at tables and were chatting about school, friends, and all things non-school related, laughing and eating all the while.

Katniss looked around in search of a table but judging by how many were already in use, the odds of them getting one seemed awfully slim. She knew that if you wanted a table, a seat and somewhere to sit, then you'd have to hurry your way down the instant class ended or risk coming a few minutes later and having to face the possibility of there being no tables or seats left. Unless a few people or so finished early and got up to leave, she figured they'd probably have to find themselves a spot out in the halls.

Peeta took his spot in the line which had died down considerably in the past twenty minutes, and noticed Katniss staring about.

"Pretty crowded, huh?" he asked, and then added, "Hope we can find a table."

"Doesn't look like we'll be able to," she observed while still searching. "I still don't understand how it gets so packed this fast. Lunch just started. But I guess we can always sit out in the hall or something."

 _True_ , thought Peeta. _I don't really care where we sit anyway – here at a table or in the halls on the floor – I'd just be happy sitting with you_. _Eating here though, hopefully all the people and chatter would put her at ease and not give our lunch an awkward feel. Then again, if we sat out in the hall and found a spot to ourselves, hmmm...it'd feel more like a date than a casual lunch. Maybe not a real_ _date, but maybe a little more...just-the-two-of-us kind of thing._

The line was moving slowly, but surely. There were five people ahead of them and Katniss and Peeta couldn't help think about where it would be better to eat – there, or out in the hall? Where the cafeteria was buzzing with noise and people and loads of activity, the halls definitely weren't as loud, considering most of the students weren't in the halls at that time. They were eating lunch where the majority of students liked doing so, which was in the cafeteria. Peeta figured the hall would be a great place if he wanted to feel more as if the two were "alone" but at the same time, if the two were in the cafeteria, Katniss might not feel so nervous what with all the people around. He wasn't entirely sure if she was nervous or not, but at least if she was, then eating in a place where there was loads of people would likely calm any nerves she might possibly be dealing with.

 _Maybe we should eat out in the hall_ ," he thought, trying to settle on the better place to spend the hour with Katniss. _We haven't spent any time together, just the two of us. Art class doesn't count since there's always people around and all we ever really talk about in that class is art anyway. She's not in my math or biology class. We take different routes going home, and we don't even share the same free together._

That was easily what disappointed Peeta the most – not sharing the same free with Katniss. Each semester, students were granted an hour-long free period that was mainly intended for study purposes. Most spent their time either hanging out or driving down to grab a bite to eat at one of the nearest fast food restaurants, the Hob being one of the most popular. So far, Peeta had used his time wisely and had gotten loads of sketching done, as well as tackled some biology and math questions while still having time to hang with his friends. But what he wouldn't _give_ for him and Katniss to share the same free. It would have been the perfect opportunity for him to hang out with her more and the two could even work more on their artwork together.

 _But we don't_ , he reminded himself. _So just try and have a good time with her now. Just tell her you changed your mind and want to eat out in the hall. That way, you'll be more alone with her and it can feel kind of like a date. I guess I might as well because I don't know if I'd ever work up the nerve to ask her out on a real date, let alone tell her I've loved her for eleven years..._

Two people were now ahead of them. One of them had purchased a salad, bag of chips and a can of pop, while the other was buying two chicken wraps, a bowl of pasta and a bottle of water. In about a minute he and Katniss would be ordering their lunch and would then have to look for a spot to eat, whether that was there in the cafeteria or out in the halls. It felt to Peeta that all he could focus on was deciding where they should eat. He very much wanted to eat out in the halls so the two could feel more alone rather than have so many people chatting and talking around them, but one nagging thought kept coming back into his mind.

 _No, that's not what you're after,_ he thought, finally reaching a decision. _Just try and be friends with her and then once she knows you better, see if she'd be okay with dating. One thing at a time, Mellark. Can't go getting ahead of yourself. Be friends with her first before thinking that far ahead. Don't want to scare her off thinking I'm crazy for a relationship or something. Just keep being funny and friendly. It's worked so far, right? And just focus on having a good time with her. That's the important thing right now. To have fun with her and not worry too much about what might happen later on._

It was a good thing he'd come to a decision because they were now at the front of the line. Above them was a large menu that showed all you could purchase – salads, wraps, sandwiches, soups, various fruits, burgers, fries and what they planned on getting, which was pizza. There was even a small selection of desserts as well that consisted of popsicles, ice cream that came in about ten different flavours, sundaes and frozen yogurt. Madderson High was definitely one of the top schools in District Twelve in terms of having the greatest selection of foods, and it was rare that students ever complained about there being a lack of options.

The cafeteria lady was an older, but cheery woman named Mags who was definitely in her sixties, and was well-liked among staff and students. She still had a great sense of humour for somebody her age, and people liked stopping by to have a quick chat with her before going about their day. Mr. Odair especially liked talking with her since years ago she'd been one of his art instructors in junior high. He was now twenty-five, and Mags was in her sixties, and both loved bringing up old memories of things they'd said and done years ago. It always managed to get a chuckle out of the two of them.

"Hi there!" said Mags, giving both Peeta and Katniss one of her cheery smiles. "What can I get for you?"

"We were thinking pizza," said Peeta, his eyes still on the menu above him.

"Hmm...not sure how much we got left," said Mags, then told him, "That stuff goes pretty fast once the lunch bell goes off. I'll go check though. Might still be some left. Just give me a second."

She went to the back where the pizza was made, took a quick look, and came back holding two delicious-looking slices.

"You're lucky," she chuckled. "Exactly two slices left. Hope you like pepperoni."

"Yeah, that's great." Peeta looked to Katniss and asked, "That okay with you?"

"Yeah, that's fine," she answered. "I pretty much like anything."

"Perfect," said Mags. "Now will that be everything?" Or is there something else you'd like me to get you?"

"A lemonade would be great," said Peeta. "Oh, and a bag of cookies if you wouldn't mind. I'm kind of craving some, especially those chocolate-chunk ones."

"Not at all," said Mags, then turning to Katniss, she asked, "A drink for you, miss?"

"I'll have orange juice, please."

Mags nodded and went to fetch everything. In a minute, the two had their pizza, drinks and bag of cookies. Peeta dug into his side pocket, took out a ten dollar bill and paid for the meal. Katniss watched, confused, before finally saying something. She'd been puzzled the second he took the money out of his pocket and wondered why he'd want to pay for her meal when she could have simply paid for herself. Whatever the reason, it wasn't the kind of thing she'd let happen and not speak up about.

"You didn't have to do that," she told him. "I can pay for my own food. It's fine."

"Oh, I don't mind," he said casually, handing Katniss her pizza and drink. "I mean, you _did_ help me with that huge assignment we got in class which by the way, I got a B- on!" He smiled, proud to have gotten a B in math when up till now all he'd ever gotten were discouraging C's despite his constant studying and efforts. Like he'd always said, math wasn't his best subject and it was the only subject he ever seemed to struggle in. He added with a smile, "It's my way of saying thanks."

Though he and Katniss weren't in the same class for math, that didn't mean she couldn't let him borrow her notes or give him a hand with questions during art, which was what they usually did. Most times they'd finish ten or fifteen minutes early especially since Peeta was now lending her a hand in the creativity department, so she'd take the opportunity to help him out. She'd clarify things for him, check his answers to make sure they were right and even see how well he could explain how to go about solving an equation. He was convinced that if she weren't lending him a hand, he'd still by scraping by with frustrating C's. The fact that she was taking the time to help him out at all was a thing he truly appreciated because it was something she really didn't have to do. But it was obvious she didn't mind or else she wouldn't be helping him.

"I guess," she said slowly, sounding slightly unsure. "But still...you didn't have to do that. I feel kind of bad that you paid for everything and I didn't pay for anything. I could have at least paid for something."

Peeta took his lunch tray, faced her and said with a warm laugh, "Don't worry about it. Tell you what? If it makes you feel any better, you can buy _me_ lunch sometime? Okay? Then that way we'll be even. I'll have bought you lunch, and you'll have bought me lunch."

She shrugged, gave a small grin and said, "Okay. Now we just gotta find somewhere to sit. This should be interesting."

"Hey, those people are leaving," he said, pointing to the back. "We can take their table."

He quickly made his way over to where the group of four were throwing their stuff in the trash. They then grabbed their bags and left through the side door. Peeta chose a seat in the middle and Katniss took the seat opposite him. They both placed their trays on the table and as soon as the smell of the food had reached his nose, he felt the familiar rumbling in his stomach. He was hungry and dying to eat but the excitement of sitting there with Katniss made him want to take things slow and not think about where he'd be heading after that which was a boring hour of biology with Mr. Boggs. He knew his hour with her wouldn't last forever, but he did want to savour every possible second they had together and then store it permanently in his mind where it would become a precious memory he'd hold onto forever.

He picked up his pizza and after an eager bite, he gave a satisfied, "Mmmmm."

Katniss took a bite of hers, swallowed and said with satisfaction, "Yeah, this is pretty good."

Peeta slid the bag of cookies between them and offered, "We can have these after. We can each have two. I know they're not very big, but they're pretty good for being that small. I'm crazy about the chocolate-chunk ones. I could eat a dozen of those in one sitting."

"Your cupcakes looked better though," she told him, recalling the three beautifully decorated treats he'd brought to art class just earlier. "With the frosting and everything. The detail in them was amazing. Not that these aren't great; they are. But they can't really compare with yours."

"Thanks," said Peeta, giving her a smile. He then laughed and suggested jokingly, "Maybe I could teach Mags how to frost? Let her in on some well-guarded secrets of mine?"

Katniss chuckled and Peeta beamed at having gotten yet another laugh out of her. He loved the sound of her laugh and everything about it – the innocence, relaxation and peacefulness– and it felt like butterflies flew into his stomach every time he was lucky enough to hear it. There weren't many sounds that could have butterflies enter his stomach and flutter out of control, but her laugh was that one rare thing that got his body to experience that familiar tingling sensation he always felt when around Katniss. It was a feeling he wished could stay inside him forever because each time it left, it always left him with this odd sense of emptiness, as if the hundreds of butterflies helped put him at ease. He didn't quite know how to explain what he felt. All he knew was that it felt...comforting.

Growing up, Katniss had always been a strong girl and the few times he'd noticed her in school, the one thing he'd remembered about her was her strength. It wasn't her physical strength he admired though. It was her emotional strength. A young girl, she'd always been strong willed and once she was struck with her father's tragic end, she only seemed to become that much stronger. She had no choice but to be strong because her mother had been so emotionally damaged and broken by her husband's demise and if Katniss followed in that same path, then who would be left to care for Prim? Sweet, little Prim who'd have nobody to care for her and be there for her whenever she needed a shoulder to lean on. It was after the initial shock and despair that Katniss had built herself in a kind of shell and kept all her doubt, fears and emotions locked up inside. After singing, hearing her laugh was hands down the most beautiful sound Peeta had heard from her.

 _I could listen to that forever_ , he thought, and went on to replay it in his head as if it were part of a song itself. _The sound of your voice. I'd give anything to hear you sing again. The only time I remember hearing you sing a full song was back in school when we were five, and the mockingjays took up your song. I wish I could hear that same song again. Maybe again soon, hopefully._

While they were eating, Katniss asked him lots of questions about him and his family's bakery, and Peeta was all too happy to give her the gist of the story. He told her how his parents had founded it ten years ago when the two were in their early thirties. He explained that financially, even though it hadn't flourished or thrived as successfully as other bakeries, it never dampened his father's spirit. Peeta always assumed this was where he got his spirit for art, in that he'd never give up on his dream of becoming an artist, just like his father hadn't given up on his dream of opening up and running a bakery. His father was a man that rarely showed doubt and was always working to keep the bakery open and running. Peeta figured this wasn't exactly a fascinating story, so he went on to talk to her about everything they baked – bread, pies, pastries, cakes, brownies, cookies and various other foods.

"Me and my brothers help out too," he continued. "We help with the baking but I like frosting the cakes. That's always what I've liked doing. Rye usually helps Mom with the bread and Luchi does most of the baking and preparing of the food itself, since he works there full time now. Rye and I don't do as much as he does, but I'm perfectly happy frosting the cakes. That's the funnest job in the bakery in my opinion. I could do that all day."

He opened the bag of cookies and slid two towards her while keeping two for himself. She raised one to her mouth and took a bite as the sweet taste of chocolate hit her tongue. Peeta did likewise, but couldn't help wish that just a tad bit more chocolate had been added, but the cookies were in no way bad. Far from it. They might not have been as detailed and mouth-watering as the cookies in his family's bakery, but they were certainly good enough to leave him craving another one.

 _Not bad_ , thought Peeta, finishing his first cookie and now starting on his second. _Maybe I'll grab a few more of these before I head home_.

"So you do all the cakes?" Katniss asked him curiously while taking a bite out of her cookie. "Prim and I have been by a couple of times and every time we stop by, the cakes always look amazing."

"Pretty much," answered Peeta. "Rye and Luchi help out the odd time but Dad lets me do most of the cakes since he knows that's my favourite job. My brothers don't find it all that enjoyable, so he lets them do other things around the bakery."

"It's crazy all the little details you put into them," she told him. "The flowers, the raindrops, the trees, everything! I've never seen someone put so much effort into decorating cakes. They're some of the best cakes I've ever seen. I mean, I've been to a few other bakeries in town and looked at their cakes but they weren't like yours. Prim wouldn't even buy any of the cakes because she only wanted the ones from your bakery. She begs me almost every day to walk by after school just so she can take a peek inside. She always says, 'We gotta go to the Mellark Bakery, Katniss. That's where the best cakes in town are.'"

Peeta chuckled and said, "She really likes them that much?"

"She _loves_ them," was Katniss's answer. She smiled at the thought of her sister, and went on, "It doesn't even matter the time of day. Whenever we're out, she begs me to stop by just so she can look at them. We usually end up buying one too, since she'd just beg me to take her down the next day anyway. She especially likes the cakes you do with the different colored flowers. Those are her favourites."

With a knowing smile, Peeta replied, "The flowers? Yeah, those ones definitely take the most time. There was one time I was helping Dad out with an order for two customers who were getting married and wanted to have us design their wedding cake. It was one of our trickiest cakes because we had to put together so many kinds of flowers."

"How long did it take to make it?"

With another chuckle, Peeta told her, "I thought it might take the whole day, but it took us a few hours. Baking the cake wasn't what took forever. It was all the flowers! We had to come up with roses, sunflowers, daffodils, tulips, pansies, geraniums, marigolds, uh..."

"Any more?" asked Katniss, a small laugh escaping her lips.

"Oh, there's more," said Peeta with a nod, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. "Just having a hard time remembering them. I think those were pretty much all of them though."

"Sounds like it took a lot of work," she remarked, knowing such a project would take her likely a few days or more just to complete, and even then it still wouldn't match the perfection that Peeta and his father worked so hard to achieve.

"It did," he agreed, and then added, "But the two were really pleased with it."

"So they had a good wedding then?"

"They did," said Peeta. "They actually still pop by every few weeks or so. They told us they like the bakeries in town, but after seeing what we did for their special occasion, they wanted to start coming to us more often." With a laugh, he went on, "But the cakes we do for them don't have as many flowers on them, which is kind of a good thing because it's so time consuming putting them together. It's fun and I don't mind how long it takes, but I'm not sure I'd want to be doing them all the time. I think my head would explode."

"I bet Prim would have loved it," Katniss told him. There was no questioning her little sister's eyes would have grown the size of golf balls if she'd seen the stunning piece of work Peeta and his father had worked to create. She probably would have found it hard just to keep herself from reaching out and touching the petals of the delicate, carefully made flowers of the gorgeous cake. No doubt she would have begged her big sister to ask them if they wouldn't mind making one for her as well.

"She's our best customer," said Peeta and added jokingly, "Wish we had more customers like her. Maybe we'd do a bit better than we do now. That's why I was so excited for art class. My mother never let me buy any art supplies so I could paint at home, so the only place I could really do any of that was here – at school. The most I could ever do at home was drawing, since there was paper and pencils in the house, but she'd never let me go out and buy paints and brushes. She always thought it was a waste of money. That's why I'm so happy to be in art class. It's the only place where I can have all the tools I'd like to create sketches or paintings or anything I'd like with. I guess it's a place where I can just really be ...myself."

"She never let you buy anything?" asked Katniss, shocked as to how any mother could act so unkindly, especially considering what it was Peeta had wanted. It wasn't as if he'd tried to sneak out with a handful of money with the intent of purchasing drugs or alcohol or anything else that could be declared as being a waste of precious money. No, all Peeta had wanted was to buy some art supplies and yet still his mother had acted as if her son was requesting for something illegal.

Peeta shook his head quietly while shrugging his shoulders.

"But...why?" she asked, feeling all but baffled at what he was telling her.

With an almost silent sigh that had a touch of sadness in it, Peeta said, "Waste of money, I guess."

He dropped his gaze slightly and after having stared at the table for a brief moment, he returned his gaze to Katniss to see she was still observing him with that same look of puzzlement. There was no other expression whatever he could read on her face. Only confusion. It didn't surprise him, since what he was telling her was pretty bizarre and definitely out of the ordinary.

It made no sense whatsoever to her. Never had she known of mothers who behaved so oddly, and it made her question how such people could even exist. What she wondered most about though was how a mother could go on that way to her own son. Of all people in the world...a boy who was her own flesh and blood? The very thought was enough to send chills down her back.

"That still doesn't make sense though," Katniss went on. _How can a mother even_ _act like that? I know I sometimes give Mom a hard time about her depression but...she'd never act like that to us!_ "Didn't she know that's not a waste of money?"

With another shrug, Peeta answered, "I don't know. Maybe she thought I wanted the money for something else, and that I was lying, but I don't think that's it. My mom's never been one to appreciate art so it's all just nonsense to her when she hears me going on about it or sees me sketching. She only cares about things that give her what she wants, like the bakery. Keeping that up and running gives her money and as long as she has that, then nothing else matters. Money's all she cares about, really."

"But money's not everything, Katniss threw in, starting to feel more disgusted with Peeta's mother the more he explained to her. She just couldn't fathom or wrap her head around how any woman could deny their own son something as simple as a paintbrush. It was one of the most absurd, outlandish things she'd ever heard.

"I know," said Peeta in agreement. "I wish she could see that. I know they say money can't buy happiness, and I agree with that. But that's not true with her. All she cares about is money. Anything else just doesn't matter to her." _I wonder what she'd_ _ever do if we lost all our money? Probably leave. I guess there wouldn't be much point in staying if she wasn't getting anything out of it._

"Your dad seems nice," said Katniss, reflecting back on the times she and Prim had gone to the Mellark Bakery and were lucky enough to speak not with Peeta's monster mother, but his father who was all but friendly and pleasant.

A smile crossed Peeta's faced as he responded with, "Yeah, Dad's really great with customers. Even if someone comes in cranky and in the worst mood, he still treats them kindly and welcomes them with a smile. He never lets even the grouchiest customers ruin his day. He just lets it slide off his shoulders like its nothing."

He wasn't entirely sure what Katniss was thinking about his family. It was certainly an odd combination of friendly and nasty and in a way, it wasn't exactly a typical family, where all members – parents and children – were a decent bunch. No, the Mellark family wasn't one that was built purely on love; it had its elements of hatred and it was this hatred that made Peeta feel like his family was one that was...broken. He wished more than anything that his family could become closer and share the kind of relationship that most families shared, but he knew that was wishing for a lot. Really, he knew it was like asking for a miracle.

 _I just hope she won't think I'm like her,_ thought Peeta, wanting to shove the fear right out of his head and label it as He knew he shouldn't spend time worrying because they'd been in art class for weeks now and of course Katniss would have seen how nice of a guy Peeta Mellark was. It made no difference hearing how horrid of a mother he had. It didn't change the fact that Peeta was the complete opposite. He and his mother were polar opposites, and he had no doubt that she'd feel the same.

 _You're supposed to be enjoying lunch with her,_ he reminded himself, and immediately stopped thinking of his wicked mother altogether. _Not fretting about what she might be thinking about everything. And speaking of lunch, it's almost over._

There was a long pause, till Peeta spoke up and asked, wanting to get off the topic of his witch of a mother, "So any idea what you'd like to do after high school? Any plans?"

Katniss shook her head and said, "Not really. I haven't thought about it much, honestly. Still trying to figure out just what I'd like to do. You?" _Maybe I shouldn't have asked him so much about his family. That's kind of nosy to be doing. And he isn't throwing questions at me, so maybe I shouldn't ask him so much. Just keep things simple._

"Kind of," he answered. He took a quick sip of his lemonade and continued, "I _know_ I want to be an artist, that's for sure. I've wanted that since I was five. I just can't picture myself doing anything but painting and drawing for the rest of my life. Art's such an important part of my life that not making a living out of it would just feel odd. I'm so used to spending all my time creating things that suddenly not being able to do that anymore, I guess...I guess it just wouldn't feelright, you know? I feel like I'm meant to be doing this for the rest of my life."

"What about your family's bakery?" said Katniss. "Do you think you'd still help out there?"

Peeta shrugged and said, "I'd actually maybe like to open up my own bakery someday. Hopefully I'd do well enough making a living by selling paintings that I could open one up. That'd be nice. I've been so used to helping out my parents and decorating cakes that it'd be weird just leaving that behind. I mean, the bakery's been a part of my life since I was a kid so to just forget about that...I don't know if I could. That's why I'd probably try and open up my own someday, to keep it a part of my life."

Katniss nodded in understanding and said, "Wish _I_ had more of an idea of what I'd like to do. Don't have a clue in the world and time's just ticking. No idea at all and I've got three years left to decide."

Peeta threw in optimistically, "Hey, that's long enough to get an idea. And at least you can enjoy a bit of art class while you're thinking about it, right?"

"Yeah," said Katniss, sounding clearly indifferent. "But you're the one that's into art and all, remember? Not me. I'm just taking it because it's required. I doubt I'll be taking it next year. I'll take three math credits but I can't see myself enrolling in more than one art class." She then gave Peeta a small smile and said, "Though I bet you will, seeing how much you love it. You'd probably take ten of them if you could."

 _What!_ Suddenly, Peeta found himself fighting to keep himself from exploding in shock. _W-what do you mean you're_ _not_ _taking it again next year? I love having you in my class, Katniss! I wouldn't be enjoying art half as much as I am if you weren't in it. Okay, maybe I'd still enjoy the class and all since it's art...but you make it_ _so_ _much more enjoyable. Please tell me you're joking because I don't know if I'd be looking forward to art next year if you aren't in it. I really hope I'll be able to help you enjoy art more. Maybe then you'll change your mind about not taking it again._

"Who knows?" said Peeta, and told her encouragingly, "Come next year you might like art better than you thought you would." He added this last part with a smile that could only be described as one that contained nothing but hope.

"Maybe," she said, not sounding convinced.

"Aw, you never know though," he said chuckling lightly. "You might actually loveart by the time grade ten's done." _I really hope you do because_ _I'd love for us to be in more art classes together_. _But I guess that's only gonna happen if you end up liking art, and that means I have to do my best to make art enjoyable for you. Looks like I've got a lot of work to do._

"I wouldn't really say love," said Katniss. "More like...maybe. But I can't see myself really loving art." She stared at him a moment longer and giving him the tiniest of a smile, she raised her eyebrows and asked inquisitively, "Anyway, why do you seem to care so much?"

"Oh, I don't," he said quickly, and it took everything in him to keep his face from turning cherry red. He then added while making sure to sound as casual as he could, "I'm just crazy about art and all so I always try to make it seem fun to others, that's all. And I'm really starting to like playing the role of a tutor. Makes class feel extra special to me because I get to help someone else." _And I do. I always try and help others see the fun in art but what I wouldn't give to have you in future classes!_

At first, he feared that his cheeks had in fact gone a bright red, and he was seconds away from searching for a means to explain himself and why his face was burning up, but Katniss only shrugged and gave a nod. That meant two things were confirmed. His cheeks hadn't broken out in a noticeable shade of red and she believed what he'd just told her.

"Yeah, I know that," said Katniss, taking a sip of her juice. "You're definitely art crazy. I doubt anyone loves art more than you. But I think one class in art is enough for me. I mean, it's great that you try and help others like art too, but I'm really not much of an artsy person. It's just not my thing."

"Well, we'll wait and see," said Peeta, putting on a smile while trying to hide the unmistakable disappointment he felt. He knew for sure that if she caught sight of any disappointment on his face, then it'd be all too obvious he was hoping she'd be in future classes with him. "Guess the important thing is to get through this class first and then see how you feel."

Katniss nodded and realizing what time it was, quickly finished off her juice. It was only a moment later that the table was cleared off of all their garbage and Peeta had to look twice to confirm to himself that lunch was indeed over.

"That's funny," said Katniss, shifting her gaze from the back of the room to Peeta.

"What is?" asked Peeta quickly. What he feared was that his cheeks had actually turned tomato red and he just hadn't realized it till now. Worse, he couldn't help think that Katniss had caught sight of it and was beginning to catch on to why he'd so unexpectedly started blushing. He wasn't too sure how he'd manage to explain that without letting his voice crack and break out in stammers.

"How fast lunch goes by," was her unexpected answer. "One minute we're sitting down to eat and the next we've only got thirty minutes left. Then it's off to class again."

 _S-she was talking about lunch!_ _Wow, you gotta calm down, Peeta. You keep worry-warting like this and_ _you won't even know what to do with yourself anymore. You'll never make it to next semester if you keep getting this nervous._

"Yeah," said Peeta in agreement. He gave a silent sigh of relief and went on, "Time sure flies." _Especially when you're with the person you love._


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

 **SEPTEMBER**

Before Peeta had time to think or say anything else, he saw someone familiar approaching their table and knew right away who it was – it was his brother Rye. He was a year older than Peeta, in the eleventh grade and in Peeta's eyes, one of the laziest and most irritating people to live with. On top of that, he was the true definition of a snob and saw himself better than everyone else around him in every possible way. He thought he was more attractive, smarter, cooler and far more popular than Peeta ever could be. For so many years Peeta was forced to put up with this obnoxious character, especially since he was the one Rye would always take his frustration out on. As to why Rye enjoyed tormenting his younger brother so much, the answer to that question had always been unclear to Peeta, and still was to that day.

Did it have something to do with the fact that he was the older brother, and felt the need to knock his younger brother down a few pegs? But the guy didn't have one, single, solid reason to give his little brother a hard time yet in spite of that, he always succeeded in doing so.

 _I've never done anything bad to him_ , Peeta would think to himself in puzzlement. _I never call him names, never hit him or try to beat him up. I don't act like I'm better than him. I don't do anything that would get on the guy's nerves so if that's all the case...then why is he like this?_

It was a question that had remained unanswered year after year and Peeta had the feeling he'd never find the answer that question. More frustrating still was that Rye hadn't always been this unlikeable. No, at one point in time, Rye hadn't been much different than Peeta himself - friendly, humorous, generous and imaginative.

 _What happened?_ Peeta would think tirelessly. _I just wish I knew what happened years ago to make him change so much. One day, he's an amazing guy, and the next...he can't stand me._

Because the two were siblings, it would have made sense that they'd look alike, but where most brothers did share similarities in appearances, Peeta and Rye didn't. Where Peeta's eyes were a bright, clear blue that resembled that of the sky, Rye's were a dark, chocolate brown and didn't have the kindness that was so obvious in Peeta's. He shared the same blond hair as his brother and like Peeta, his hair fell in smooth waves over his forehead but always looked like it should have been cut days ago. His hair fell right over his eyes and he'd constantly be pushing it to the side, only to have the long strands of hair shift back over his eyes yet again. He was a bit taller than Peeta, and stood about four inches taller than his brother and though he wasn't as strong or well-built as Peeta, that didn't stop Rye from pretending he was a whole lot stronger and tougher than his brother. He knew deep down he wasn't, but that wasn't something he'd ever admit to anyone, let alone to Peeta.

In terms of their personality, they were about as dissimilar as two brothers could get. Where Peeta was friendly, funny and had a natural charisma about him, Rye was nothing like that. He always spoke in a superior tone like he was above everyone else, laughed only at his own jokes, and hadn't a touch of charisma about him whatsoever.

 _Of all the times for him to show up_ , thought Peeta glumly. He had to fight to keep from screaming. _Of_ _all the_ _times! Right when Katniss and I are in the middle of talking. I just hope this'll be quick. Just please be quick, Rye. Give me a noogie, laugh at me, call me whatever you want...just please do what you need to do and get out of here!_

When his brother reached their table, Rye gave them each a grin and then said to Peeta in a friendly tone, "Hey bro. What's up?" _Oh, I can see what's up._ _You're getting all snug as a bug with your little crush._ _Ain't that cute._

In his head, Peeta was hollering in desperation: _just leave! Go! Somewhere else, doesn't matter. Just please don't stick around_. _You'll ruin everything_ _!_ _This is the first time I've talked to Katniss where it's just the two of us and I just know you're gonna try and scare her off._ _Whatever it is you've got planned Rye...don't do it!_

"Not much," answered Peeta, managing to keep his voice surprisingly calm. "Same old, same old. Bit of this, bit of that."

It was a struggle just to keep his voice in control when all he wanted was to scream and tell his brother to go pick on somebody else. Actually, he'd rather Rye not go and pick on anyone at all. All he wanted was for his slug of a brother to go someplace else and let him and Katniss talk in peace, but he knew his brother far too well and there was no way he'd ever go and do that. He was a guy that lived to cause trouble and the one person he loved tormenting and humiliating more than anyone else in the world was his little brother, Peeta.

 _Don't you have friends to hang out with_? thought Peeta nervously. _Or homework to do, or lunch to eat or...or something to do_? _Oh, who are you kidding, Mellark? This guy's been giving you grief for so many years that why would he ever stop doing that now? What makes you think he's just gonna get up and walk off now? Okay, just calm down. Just keep it together and maybe this won't be so bad. Yeah, maybe he'll do what he wants to do to me, leave and then Katniss and I can get back to talking and finishing lunch_. _Guess all I can do is keep my fingers crossed_.

Rye took a seat next to Peeta and started tapping his fingers on the table. Peeta, not wanting to look uncomfortable and awkward, casually looked around the cafeteria in the hopes that Katniss wouldn't sense his unease at being around his brother. If Katniss weren't there, then Peeta wouldn't have been so out of his mind nervous, but when he was sitting with the girl he loved and in comes his slug of a brother...he had every right to be scared. His brother was a master at pestering others and Peeta could only wonder in fear at what his brother's latest idea was. He might not have had the slightest clue as to what he had in mind, but he knew just like with every other ploy of his – it couldn't be good. Rye was a schemer and right now he had his mind set on Peeta while attempting to come up with the absolute best scheme to shove onto his brother's shoulders.

 _You stupid little loser_ , Rye thought in amusement. He loved watching Peeta squirm because he knew that once he had him squirming, there was no escape for his poor, helpless brother. _You're in for it now_. _You thought all that stuff I did before_ _was bad? Wow, are you_ _ever in for a shock then. Watch out Peeta...because here it comes!_

Rye turned his attention to Katniss, gave her a long look before breaking out into a mischievous smile. Katniss had never really spoken to Rye before so his odd behaviour was making her feel a little confused, and a slight bit uncomfortable. But her doubts immediately went to Peeta, so she assumed if this guy was his brother, then he had to have been a decent guy. Maybe he wasn't exactly the same as Peeta, but any brother of Peeta's had to have been a nice one.

This was what she presumed, but she couldn't have been more wrong.

"Hey," he said cheerily, giving her a charming smile. _So you think you've finally snagged the girl of your dreams, huh bro? Too bad I gotta complicate things for ya. You might think you're smart but I can't wait to see how you handle this little mess. Hope you like surprises._ "You're Katniss Everdeen, right?"

"Yeah," she said, dropping her gaze to the floor. _Why does he keep grinning so much? It's fine when people smile and all but he seems to be doing a whole lot of it. Maybe he's just in a good mood._

Peeta wondered if she was actually feeling more uncomfortable around Rye than he was himself. Here was a guy she'd never even met and now suddenly he was sitting across from her and giving her big smiles and acting like he was crazy about her. But Rye wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew what he wanted to achieve and more often than not, he was met with success. If things went as smoothly now as they usually went, then he'd have no trouble at all at making a fool out of his brother.

"I'm Rye. This here's my brother," he said as if Katniss still had no idea after two weeks who Peeta was. "I've seen you around a bit. I think one of my friends mentioned you. So you know Peeta, huh?"

 _Rye, what are you doing?_ thought Peeta suspiciously. He was starting to feel more and more confused as to what his brother had planned. It was never easy reading his brother's expressions because a frown for him might really be a smile in disguise, or a laugh might really be him yelling in secret. There was no easy way to interpret Rye's erratic behaviour. _Just please keep quiet and not ruin things. Everything's going great...please don't screw this up for me._

She answered again with "yeah" and then added, "We're in the same art class."

"Pretty good drawer, isn't he? It's crazy some of the stuff he draws. He's got a real knack for it, doesn't he?" _More like worst drawer in the whole world. Could he be any more delusional?_

"Yes."

"Bet he's been helping you out." _Course he has._

"Yeah, he has."

"Such a great artist he is," said Rye, and not one person around them could even guess at what this guy was scheming in secret. "Way better than me. I can't draw for crap but Peeta here, he's the best. Where I draw stick people, he draws real people. How he does it, I'll never know." _Hah!_ _Bet he's wettin' his pants already! Man, you're in for it. You're too easy, Peeta. But that's why you're so great to pick on and don't ever think I'm gonna stop._

"He is," Katniss agreed. "Definitely the best drawer I've ever seen."

Rye nodded and gave Peeta a quick glance that had the slyness of a fox written all over it. Peeta was fighting not to shove the rat out of his seat right then for fear that he'd say something with the full hopes of humiliating and embarrassing Peeta. For Peeta unfortunately, this was exactly what Rye's intentions were. There was no stopping his brother now. Even if Peeta managed to jump out of his seat and make a run for it, that wouldn't stop Rye from carrying out what he had in mind. Peeta could have left that very second and Rye's plan would still come out as successful. For Peeta, he was in the worst situation imaginable and no matter what he did or didn't do...there was no getting out of his brother's clutches.

"Hey, want to hear a secret?" Rye asked Katniss excitedly. _Don't be stupid and say no because I know you want to. It's right there all over your face. And what person doesn't want to hear another person's secret? Well, I've got a secret for you Everdeen and what better secret to reveal than that of the guy who's so in love with you?_

By now, a huge smile had crossed his face and his eyes had lit up like it was Christmas morning. Peeta, on the other hand, just wanted to drop his head on the table, cover his ears and try to ignore whatever it was Rye was about to say. But he had no chance at doing that. The only way that could happen was if he got up and left, but that would just leave Katniss more than confused. Not only that, but he'd then have to put up with Rye screaming in his face how much of a total coward he was. He'd never hear the end of it the minute they got home and then the tormenting would just start up all over again. It was a vicious, ongoing cycle that had no possible end.

She only shrugged and gave an answer of, "I guess, doesn't matter."

"Well, it won't disappoint," Rye assured her and a grin was tugging at the corners of his lips. Katniss might not have caught sight of this but his younger brother saw it all too plainly. "It's a pretty wicked secret." _Oh, it's better than wicked. More like piss-your-pants hilarious._

The glee and excitement in his brother's voice made Peeta want to puke because he knew instantly whose secret it would be – it would be _his. Who else's would it be? There wasn't anyone else in the world Rye would reveal secrets about because the only person he cared about humiliating was his own brother, and he knew_ _all of Peeta's secrets. There wasn't a thing about Peeta Mellark's life that Rye didn't know about. He knew it all. It was pretty much impossible not to considering that he had complete access to Peeta's room. He had all the freedom in the world to go barging into his personal space where he could rummage through all his things and pick out bits and pieces he could use to make his brother's head spin._

"Rye, s-shouldn't you go and hang out w-with Woof?" Peeta stuttered, desperately wanting to get rid of him. He knew it was a waste of effort, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try his best to shake him loose. He certainly wasn't going to sit there and wait willingly for the torture to start. He'd at least go down fighting but he feared that once the storm hit he'd only end up drowning in it. "I think I heard him say he wanted to show you something. I think he said he was gonna show Mitchell too. Sounds like it's pretty awesome. You should go check it out."

"Nah, it's okay," said Rye dismissively, clearly enjoying the moment. "I wanna hang out here for a bit, if that's alright with you. I love spending time with you bro and I felt like stopping by and just chilling for a while. Besides, you and I really don't hang out enough. We're so busy with school that we let that get in the way sometimes and we shouldn't." _You think I'm gonna leave just to see what Woof and Mitchell might have wanted to show me? You're not just a coward Peeta. You're a total idiot, and now Katniss is gonna see how much of an idiot you really are, thanks to me! This should be sweet._

 _Rye, please! Just keep your mouth_ _shut_ _!_ thought Peeta in fear. The voice in his head was now shrieking and demanding for Rye to get lost, but there was nothing in the world that could stop Rye Mellark. When he was on a roll, he was all but unstoppable. He was like a gigantic wave that crashed upon the shore and like all waves, there was no stopping them and that meant there was no stopping his brother either. _Please just go somewhere else, anywhere! Don't you open your mouth and say something or_... _or I swear you'll regret this!_

Rye, however, was in no way going to keep his mouth shut. If there was one thing he was simply an expert at, it was not listening to whatever it was his brother was telling him. Peeta's words would just go in one ear and out the other as if they were nothing but invisible, meaningless air.

Peeta could tell Rye was about to open his mouth and let the torment begin. That devious grin on his face and that look in his eyes was a thing he'd seen more times than he'd wish to see.

 _Don't!_ he thought, and found himself dangerously close to shouting at Rye. _Just stop, Rye! Go somewhere else! Just keep your mouth shut!_ _Whatever it is_ _you're gonna say, it's gonna ruin everything!_

"Okay," said Rye with an amused smirk, and Peeta's torture was officially about to begin. _Oh, man. Here it is! Well, Peeta, not gonna keep you or your little lovebird waiting any longer. Let's spill those secrets!_ "Well, you probably don't know much about my brother Peeta here, but there _is_ something he probably hasn't told you yet. He's kept it secret from everyone all his life but that's not very nice to do, especially considering he's kept it all from the most important person...which is you! He's wanted to tell you for a long time but he's always been so shy that he never got around to it. I'm sure he was gonna tell you eventually but I thought helping him out would be good, in case he got too nervous and changed his mind. So here it is: he's had the biggest, deepest crush on you since he was five years old."

 _No_... thought Peeta. The weight he soon felt of instant agony wasn't a thing he was sure he'd be able to handle for even a minute. _She wasn't supposed to know that yet!_ _I-I wasn't ready to tell her that yet! I didn't want to rush into things if I thought she didn't feel the same._

But Rye's plan to embarrass Peeta was only beginning.

"He'd say, over and over _'She's my one true love_!' Man, he's stupid crazy about you!" _You got that right! A stupid crazy guy that's been crushing on you day in and day out. Sounding weird yet? Don't worry. I've got plenty more secrets to share. If it's not weird yet, it's gonna get a whole lot weirder real quick._

 _Now she thinks I'm a creep_ , thought Peeta miserably. _She thinks I've been obsessing over her like some lovesick freak who could never even work up the nerve to tell her, 'I love you_.' _Not only that, but she probably thinks I'm a coward too_.

"He talks about you all the time," Rye went on. He wasn't slowing down for even a second. If anything, he seemed to be speaking twice as fast as he'd been when he'd first opened his mouth. _Only every second of every day of every month of every year. Sounding creepy yet, Katniss? If not, then no worries. There's still so much you ought to know and you're gonna hear it all. Just keep listening._

 _Now she probably thinks I'm obsessed with her_ , and by now Peeta felt so numb that he hardly knew what was happening anymore. All he knew was that he was getting humiliated and he was completely powerless in doing anything to stop it. There was no way of blocking out the sound of Rye's voice, no chance of leaving entirely and even less chance of trying to put a stop on what had already been unleashed. _And if she thinks I'm obsessed with her, then there's no chance of her ever wanting to be friends with me now_.

"He sketches pictures of you," Rye exclaimed. _Lame little pictures he hangs up on his bedroom walls like he's five years old. Probably sat there staring at them for hours too. Bet he drooled on his pants._

 _Now she thinks all those drawings I've done over the years were nothing but sketches of her_ , thought Peeta, and it felt like his entire world was crashing down upon him. _She'll think I drew nothing else. All she'll think is that I drew hundreds of pictures of her...and nothing else_.

"He decorates cookies and puts your name on them!" laughed Rye. _But yet he never had the courage to come to school and give some to you?_ _Wimp._

 _Now she thinks I thought about nothing but her while I was working in the bakery_ , he thought, and his head felt like it was spinning. He felt dizzy and sick and wanted so badly for the throbbing in his heart to vanish, but there'd be no chance of that happening anytime soon, not so long as Rye kept up his torturous act. _All those cookies and cakes and everything else I told her I'd decorated, she thinks I did them all up with her name on them._ _Now she really must think I'm creepy and obsessed_. _And how could she not?_

Rye continued, "He even has _dreams_ about you! Every night it's the same – dreams about Katniss Everdeen." _Yeah, only fifty thousand dreams of Katniss, Katniss, Katniss! Always about her. Always about that awesome girl I've never even talked to. How about now, Everdeen? You starting to feel creeped out now? If not...then I've got just the thing to do the trick._

 _Now she knows I dreamt about her_ , and the humiliation was now so painful and hurtful that Peeta feared he'd lost the girl he loved forever and there'd be no chance of getting her back. He feared that what Rye was telling her was going to do nothing but scare her off and make her never want to think about or have to talk to a guy named Peeta Mellark ever again. _She'll think every dream I've ever had was about her. Dream after dream, they were all about Katniss._

"That's not all of it though," Rye told her, and a wicked, sneaky smirk was crossing his face. "Since you were kids, he's watched you walk home every day. Yeah...every day! Not kidding either. There wouldn't be a day that went by where his little eyes wouldn't be staring right at you and they wouldn't leave you till you were far out of sight. Just thought I'd tell you all that since Peeta never would have." _Hah! How do you like that, loser? Now you're a stalker in her eyes! Not exactly a romantic sort of title, is it? Think she'll still want to be with you?_

 _There. Done. Over_ , thought Peeta wretchedly. _Thanks a lot, Rye._ _Everything's ruined. No way she'll wanna talk to me now, not after hearing all that! All she'll see Peeta Mellark as now is a creeper and a stalker!_ Then, as if Rye had shattered all his hopes of Katniss Everdeen becoming a part of his life and possibly becoming his girlfriend one day, he thought glumly, _no way she'll ever wanna talk to me again_. _She's gone_... _and I'll never get her back_. _Here I kept thinking things were finally gonna work out for me but now it's all ruined_. _She'll never look at me the same way again after hearing all that._

After having heard all this, it came to no surprise to Peeta that Katniss said absolutely nothing. She just sat there staring at the table as if her thoughts of Peeta were getting turned inside out and changing rapidly...and not for the better. As embarrassed and uncomfortable as Peeta was, he couldn't blame Katniss for her reaction. To suddenly go from not knowing anything about how Peeta felt about her, to now knowing all of _that_ , it made sense that she'd be in a state of shock and surprise. It was a lot to take in, especially considering it was about a guy she'd only known for two, almost three weeks. Before Rye had showed up, all she'd really known about Peeta was that he was in her art class, he loved drawing, and he helped his family out in their bakery but she hadn't had any idea about his love life. She now knew who he'd been crushing on for eleven long years and though she hadn't had a clue about it then...she did now.

"Well, I gotta go," said Rye casually. He rose to his feet, gave Peeta a light, friendly pat on the back and a phony grin while telling him, "See ya bro. We really gotta hang out again sometime. Maybe catch a movie or something." _We sure do. Giving you grief's just about the funniest thing there is. Don't know what I'd do without ya, Peeta. You really make my day that much better when I get to see you stomped on. Can't wait to see what else I can do to ya._

He was gone as quickly as he'd arrived and as he hurried his way out of the cafeteria, Peeta could still hear him giggling and snickering under his breath as if he'd just done the most hilarious thing. It might have been unbelievably amusing to him, but to Peeta, it was nothing but anguish and pain. He'd been so looking forward to spending his lunch hour with Katniss and slowly getting to know her a little bit more with each day but now that hope had been tossed right out the window.

 _I hate you Rye Mellark_ , and Peeta was absolutely crushed. He felt like a vase that had once stood whole and proud but was now shattered and broken into a thousand pieces with no chance at all of ever getting put back together again. If not for Rye he would have remained whole and unbroken but there was no chance of rewinding the clock and preventing what he'd just said. _I totally, utterly hate you_.

It felt like an eternity before Katniss finally decided to speak, and an even _longer_ eternity for Peeta, whose mind was now in overdrive. He couldn't even think straight, let alone begin to imagine what was racing through Katniss's mind. He'd like to think that what Rye had said hadn't bothered her at all, but he knew too well by the stunned look on her face that what his brother had revealed had hit her like a bombshell. A load of bricks. A smack to the face. Whether his words were in fact bothering her, Peeta wasn't sure but he was desperately praying that whatever it was that was going on inside her head, it didn't involve never wanting to see or speak to him again. He felt sure that if she were thinking like that, then he'd get broken all over again and this time, there'd be another few thousand pieces of a vase that was left cracked and ruined beyond repair.

When at last Katniss spoke, it was like all the life in her voice had been drained out. The tone she now spoke in was hollow and empty, as if Rye's words had physically shaken her. It startled Peeta hearing her like this, but he did all he could to stay in his seat and listen to what she had to say to him even if what she said was the most unbearable thing he could fear to hear in his life.

"Peeta," she said quietly, staring him squarely in the face. Her eyes were unblinking and the only thing in the room she was focused on right then was him. It was like everything else had vanished completely – the people, the floor, the walls, even the luscious, inviting smells of dessert – and they were the only two things left untouched. "Is everything Rye just said... _true_?"

Peeta knew he couldn't keep his eyes locked on the table when he knew Katniss was staring directly at him, waiting for him to answer. With a great deal of effort, he lifted his head and forced himself to look Katniss in the eyes and it was the most difficult thing he'd ever had to do. She deserved to be looked in the eye, but more than that she deserved the truth. Despite how frightening and painful it'd be for him and even if it meant his whole world would fall down upon him in ruins...she deserved it. All of it. If the truth was what she wanted, then it was what she could be given.

"K-Katniss, please listen to me," he said nervously, keeping his voice quiet. Even if he'd tried to speak in a louder tone, his voice still would have come out just as quiet. His throat felt dry as sandpaper and somehow it was preventing him from speaking anything but softly. _Think, Peeta!_ _What do I say to her?_ _Then again,_ _how can I possibly say anything after what Rye just said?_ _There's nothing I could say to her that'll make her forget all that!_ "I-I know what he said is a lot to—"

"I just want you to answer the question, Peeta," she told him seriously, still keeping her eyes glued on his. She wasn't blinking, raising her brows or scratching her head. She was as serious as if a camera was positioned in front of her and waiting to capture a photo; her face was completely unreadable. "Is everything Rye just said...true?"

He couldn't keep her waiting. She wanted the truth and she had every right to know if it was true. But if only she knew how humiliated and alone he was feeling and how afraid he was that he was seconds away from losing the one girl he'd ever loved...the one girl he cared so deeply about.

He let out a breath, and feeling like all the voice had been ripped out of his throat by Rye himself, he whispered a soft, simple, " _Yes_ _._ "

The instant the words came out of Peeta's mouth, any noticeable signs of anger, shock, confusion or surprise on Katniss's face were no longer visible. It was like that one simple answer of 'yes' had come as such a shock to her that all she could do was stare into space without any kind of expression. She didn't bite her lip in anger, she didn't shake her head in surprise, and she didn't have a look of puzzlement on her face. Peeta figured she was so stunned and unable to sort out her thoughts that she just couldn't have a look of shock on her face, let alone form some kind of response. He remained sitting, with his head down slightly and his hands together. He looked tired, beaten and above all...crushed.

At this point, nothing could crush him any worse. He was quickly proven wrong.

No sooner had he told her 'yes' than Katniss got up out of her seat...and walked off. She didn't stop to reconsider, or even glance back at him over her shoulder. She just kept on going and made her way out of the cafeteria without so much as saying a single word to him.

Before she vanished completely, Peeta called out anxiously, "K-Katniss, wait!" But as he quickly realized, it was no use. She wouldn't be turning around, calling back to him or considering hearing what he might want to say. All she wanted was out of that cafeteria and all too soon, she was out of his sights. Just seconds ago, she'd been sitting in front of him but now, she was gone.

Here, he'd thought that nothing could hurt him worse than what Rye had done, but he hadn't figured what might happen as a result of that – and that was Katniss getting up and leaving him,which was exactly what she'd just done. She was gone, out of his sight and probably busying herself by thinking about her next class and what they'd be doing. Odds are she wanted nothing to do with the stalker and creeper that was Peeta Mellark.

 _I can't blame her_ , he thought glumly. _I guess I do sound like an obsessed freak but I...I just wish_ _I could have told her how I felt when the time was right_. _Knowing her for only two weeks isn't long enough for her to know all that and not have it come across as creepy. I was gonna wait at least a month before saying anything but...oh, it doesn't really matter now, anyway. She's gone and any chance I had with her is gone as well. And here I thought we were getting along so well and that we might just be_ _good for each other, and then that all happens_. _Thanks Rye._

Peeta put his aching head in his hands and gave a shaky sigh. There was nothing he could possibly say to her. What could he say to her now that she saw him as a creep? She didn't see him as the friendly and funny Peeta in her art class anymore. Now she saw him as an obsessed creep who'd been dreaming of her his entire life and not once had he tried to approach her. She'd been hit with so much information, so much about Peeta Mellark's past that she'd never been aware of, but it was all out in the open now. Every little secret had been spilled and shoved right onto her shoulders.

But the day wasn't done yet with Peeta, far from it.

There was still _another_ person who had yet to crush Peeta and it couldn't be at a worse time. He heard the heavy footsteps that sounded like thunder and saw the guy out of the corner of his eye like a looming, ominous shadow. It was then that he slowly lifted his head to see who he now had to deal with and what he saw made his stomach do a flip.

Standing in front of him was a guy who hated Peeta even more right then than his own brother did – and that was Gale Hawthorne.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

 **SEPTEMBER**

Gale Hawthorne. Best friend of Katniss. A guy who'd known her since he was fourteen years old. Four years he'd been friends with her and up till now, Peeta hadn't really spoken to the guy, which made sense because if he hadn't been talking with Katniss, why would he have run into Gale at any point? He was all but a stranger to him and the only times Peeta ever saw him was when he and Katniss were spending time together at school.

But he was now standing in front of Peeta and staring him down with a look that made him wonder if the guy thought of himself as some kind of massive giant...or saw Peeta as some tiny and worthless creature that could be stomped on with all but one single crushing step. The guy might have towered over him a good five or six inches, easily standing over six feet tall while Peeta was of medium height, but there _was_ something Peeta noticed about him. One glance at him and he could tell right then that the guy wasn't as built and most likely not as physically strong as he'd become over the years. Peeta had all the time he'd spent helping out at his family's bakery to thank for that. All those times he'd spent lifting bags of flour with each of them weighing at least a hundred pounds had definitely contributed to his muscular shape.

This didn't mean though that he'd exactly _welcome_ a fight with Gale because he absolutely wouldn't. Despite the fact that he felt pretty sure he could take the guy, he wasn't fond of the idea of learning just how good or bad of a fighter Hawthorne was. And besides, he'd never been a violent, physical sort of guy growing up, especially not towards other people and couldn't imagine himself getting enjoyment or pleasure out of a brawl with him. He wasn't one that just went around hurting and beating on people, even if he wasn't particularly fond of the individual. That wasn't who he was and he wasn't going to start now. He wouldn't even want to beat up on a guy as horrid as his brother, Rye. He just wasn't that kind of person, and nothing would ever change him into becoming the violent and aggressive guy that so many others envisioned themselves to be.

What stood out most about Gale though wasn't his notably dark hair, striking features or impressive height. No, as Peeta sat there observing the guy there was only one thing that got him thinking it was something he'd always remember about him – and that was his eyes. Like Katniss, they were a deep grey but where Katniss's were a mysterious and pleasant vast sea of grey he could gladly lose himself in for hours, Gale's were not. His were more like ominous shadows that told Peeta they weren't a place he'd _ever_ want himself getting somehow trapped in. He feared that if he stared too long and too hard into these eyes, he'd find himself a victim to whatever horrors might lie in that world of grey. There was no telling what was lurking inside them. He figured he was just overacting and that they were only eyes and nothing more, but it still felt eerily uncomfortable gazing into them. All he could conclude was that it gave him the worst feeling possible and he wasn't exactly sure what kind of feeling it was. He just knew that it wasn't good.

For a minute, Gale simply stood there with his eyes on Peeta as if sizing him up like he was a slab of meat. Then, as if he'd gotten his answer, he took a seat opposite him where Katniss had been sitting previously.

All Peeta could think right then was, _He heard the whole thing and now he's after me. And it's all thanks to Rye. Rye, next chance I get, I'm_ _so_ _getting back at you for this. This time you went_ _way_ _too far. Don't think you're getting away with this because you're not. What goes around comes around...and it's coming right back to you._

"So," said Gale casually, stretching his arms out along the length of the table. "You know Katniss?"

This took Peeta by surprise. He'd been expecting Gale to start off by saying something along the lines of, "Heard the whole thing. You love Katniss Everdeen and have so for years and now you're trying to win her heart and steal her from me." But he hadn't. Maybe that was because he hadn't heard a word of what Rye had said after all and was instead hanging with friends and doing whatever he did every day? So then how did he know to find Peeta here? He figured it was just a lucky guess, or maybe he knew that Katniss came here often and that was who he'd been looking for originally. Whatever it was, it didn't really matter because Gale was now sitting across from him and by the look on his face, he looked all too interested in a conversation.

"I saw you with her, Peeta," said Gale flatly. "By the lockers before lunch. You asked her if she'd like to hang out, spend some time with you, have some lunch, chat for a bit...remember that? And don't act stupid because I heard it all. I got ears you know, and they work just fine."

Busted. It wasn't a shocker though that Gale had caught sight of them but it was starting to make Peeta feel like he was being...watched. _That_ , he didn't like. Not that he was scared or worried at what Gale might say or do to him, because it wasn't that. It was more that it angered him thinking that he and Katniss couldn't even enjoy an hour together – eat, laugh and talk a bit about themselves – without the eyes of Gale following their every move. _Peeta's_ every move. He and Katniss shouldn't have had to know that eyes were constantly on them and were observing everything they did and every word that came out of their mouths.

There was only _one_ thing Peeta could think of to truly describe what Gale was to him – and that was a hawk. Even if his image was nothing like the mighty creature, it was the traits and behaviour of eighteen-year-old Gale Hawthorne that resembled that of a hawk. One look into his eyes and Peeta knew instantly that Gale watched and guarded his best friend like a mother would with their child. And when a mother's child was in danger of getting snatched by a lurking predator, then the fury and rage of that mother at the fear of losing her young one was brought out like a vicious storm. Gale was like the mother and Katniss was the child and he wouldn't have her getting close to _any_ guy that crossed her path. He'd make sure of that. As long as Gale knew that Peeta was spending time with her and trying to get 'cozy' with her, then the eyes of Hawthorne would forever be on him.

"Yeah, I remember," said Peeta, answering his question. He then told him, "But we're not even close. I wouldn't even say we're really friends yet. We just talk in art and work on stuff."

Gale kept his eyes on him, his mind taking in what he'd said. It seemed like he was taking an awfully long time to figure out whatever it was he was debating about in his head. He must have had about a hundred different thoughts all racing about in his mind and Peeta felt sure that more than half of them dealt with he and Katniss and what Gale was so far observing in regards to their relationship.

 _He shouldn't really be worrying though_ , thought Peeta in silence. _It's not like Katniss is ever gonna wanna talk to me again. Not after what Rye said_. _I'll be lucky if she even talks to me in art again; odds are she'll want to sit by somebody else_. _I still can't believe he said all that!_

"Right," he said. "So you like that she's in your class then?"

Peeta shrugged and said, his voice relaxed, "I guess. She's not all that into art though, so she doesn't really like the class as much as I do. She told me art's not her thing so it's not one of her favourite classes."

"Oh, yeah?" said Gale doubtingly, as if he didn't believe a word he was hearing. "So you guys don't talk much?"

"Not really," Peeta admitted.

 _Why's he asking so many questions_? thought Peeta suspiciously, but kept calm and in control. " _Does he think I'm trying to steal Katniss from him?_ _Is he scared she might want to be with me? I wish she'd want to be with me but there's no way she'll look at me the same way again after having been told that I've been crushing on for the past eleven years_. _That's a bit much to take in_.

Hearing this, Gale's mind went on repeating the same thing over and over, as if on replay. _Doubt it. You think I'm gonna believe that? What do you think I am? An idiot?_

 _Just tell him what he wants to hear Mellark_ , thought Peeta, hoping his ability with words would shine through to this hawk. _He's not a threat if you know how to handle him. Act innocent and non- threatening. If he doesn't think you're trying to steal her, then maybe he'll leave you alone and stop questioning you._

Gale gave a little smirk and said, sounding boastful, "Well, she's known me for years. Seems you've known her for what, a few days? Maybe a week? Two weeks? But we've been friends for so long sometimes I forget just how long it's been. Funny, isn't it? She's kind of like my sister and I'm sort of like her older brother. We'd do anything and everything for each other. I've always been there for her; always will be. And I know she'll always be there for me. We got each other's back and if ever we need each other, we're there. That's how it's always been with us. We've been inseparable for years and it's going to stay like that for years to come."

What did he expect Peeta to say to this? _That's great Gale, love to hear that!_ So it was natural that Peeta simply sat there and listened while pretending it didn't bother him. He never interrupted, scoffed or argued against him since that wasn't part of the plan. It was the smartest and best thing he could do to present himself as _least_ threatening as possible to Gale's friendship with Katniss. If he wanted to keep the hawk calm and under control, then he had to play it right and use just the right words when the time came for him to speak. The key to pulling it all off was confidence and though he'd just been as humiliated as one could get by his menace of a brother, he wasn't giving up. No way was he crawling in a hole and admitting defeat or allowing surrender. He couldn't. He'd been through too much and whatever it took, he'd stop at _nothing_ to win Katniss back. But first he had to focus on Gale. So long as Gale was around, he'd have to push any thoughts about Katniss aside and focus onlyon Hawthorne.

He nodded and said, "She talks about you a lot. She keeps saying in class how much she can't wait to see and hang out with you on free. You're pretty much all she talks about actually."

He added a light chuckle at this last statement, hoping to keep up what act he had going on and _not_ have Gale become suspicious. But what kept coming back to him like a punch to the gut was the fact that she and Gale shared the same free, which meant it was guaranteed that they'd be together at least one hour of every day. Yes, he and Katniss shared the same art class but that wasn't the same as free. People did whatever they wanted on free and that meant she and Gale could talk, hang out, go out to eat and do whatever they pleased. Peeta hated to think about what _other_ , unmentioned things they might possibly be doing. But he tried shoving that out of his thoughts because if he really was going to try and talk to Katniss again, then the image of her and Gale acting romantic together wasn't exactly going to be a comforting one for him.

"Well, yeah, no kidding," he laughed, still boasting. "I'd be shocked if she didn't. Why wouldn't she talk about a guy she's known for four years? No offense, Peeta, but she's only known you for a few weeks. You can't really compare that with how long I've known her. Hate to sound so harsh, but it's true."

Peeta nodded, going along with it and keeping his face perfectly calm.

 _Just nod and don't say anything unless he asks a question_ , thought Peeta. _Keep your voice calm and don't let him think you're up to something. If I can just handle him now, maybe he'll leave us alone and figure there's no reason to bug us if I'm in love with her. Then again, I guess the biggest factor is how Katniss feels about me. If Gale knows that she cares about me and likes me in that way, then maybe he'd think it was a waste of time to try and break us apart. But I doubt Katniss will have feelings for me, and if that's true...then there's nothing stopping Gale from winning her over. And if they do end up together, then it's not in my place to try and change that._

"So anything else you wanted to talk to me about?" asked Peeta after a long pause.

"Nah, not really," he shot back. "I didn't have much to say anyway. Just wanted to see how you and Katniss were making out."

"Shouldn't you be heading to class then?"

"Uh, no," said Gale quickly, chuckling under his breath as if Peeta amused him. "I got free next. I'll probably see if Katniss wants to drive down to The Hob, get something to eat. If not, we'll just hang here. Doesn't matter to me. As long as we're hanging out doing something, then I'm cool with that."

Peeta fought to keep from picturing it: the two sitting together, eating, chatting, laughing and having a much better time with Gale than she had been with him. Like Rye, he just wanted Gale out of his sight so he could focus on what clearly needed fixing right then, and that was his friendship with Katniss. He didn't have to sit there and feel stressed about the possibility that Gale might be extremely close to winning Katniss over. After having heard that Peeta had been crushing on her since they were kids, her mind was probably a mess and if ever she needed a friend by her side, it was now. And what better person to have by her side then her best friend, Gale?

"Okay," said Peeta, getting to his feet. He felt he'd spent far too long sitting in this cafeteria and badly wanted out of there. It was starting to feel claustrophobic and he felt if he stayed there just a few seconds longer, the walls would start closing in on him and would eventually smother him. "Guess I'll go then."

"Oh, one more thing, Peeta," Gale said, grabbing his arm. Peeta turned and looked at Gale, waiting for whatever it was he wanted to say. All he wanted was to leave and not have to think of Rye or Gale anymore, but there was no breaking free of the grasp that Hawthorne now had on his arm.

"Yeah?"

Gale gave an amused laugh, but just as quickly the smile dropped from his face. In that moment, his eyes turned razor sharp and Peeta swore the greyness in his hawk-like eyes grew twice as dark, as if he had his prey right where he wanted it –which was in his clutches.

With dead seriousness, he snarled, "Just back off, Mellark."

He spoke the words 'back off' with an obvious hiss, as if all he wanted was to emphasize the point of his threat. It caught Peeta by surprise, but he was able to keep his eyes from widening or his mouth from opening. He hadn't quite known how serious Gale had been about Katniss up till now. It was clear that he loved her strongly enough that even the thought of another guy entering her life was too much for him to bear. If that was indeed true, then Peeta had the grim feeling that if Katniss didn't want to speak with him again and would rather keep her distance, then there was every chance that in a short period of time, she and Gale Hawthorne would be together.

"Look," said Peeta firmly, but still keeping his cool. He wasn't sure if arguing with Gale was a bright idea, but there was no way he was going to sit there and think Gale was in total control. He had to at least let him know what he was thinking, even if that meant facing the risk of getting clobbered. "I'm not after a fight with you, Gale. I'm not trying to do anything to Katniss that might—"

"Shut up!" he barked, clenching his teeth. "You don't have to babble like an idiot, Peeta. I'm just giving you a warning. Back off from Katniss. That's it. Just back off...or _I'll_ step in and you'll no longer be Peeta Mellark anymore. Got it? I'm not gonna let you steal her from me. I've waited too long to be with her to just let her suddenly get swept off her feet by some guy she hardly knows."

"Alright," said Peeta, putting his hands up in surrender. "Got it. Back off from Katniss."

"You don't get it, do ya?" snapped Gale in anger. "I've been in love with her since the minute I laid eyes on her. As soon as I saw her, I knew she was the one and I've been crazy about her ever since." _Meh, not really_ _the truth. I wasn't even sure if we'd end up as friends but what the hell? It's not like this freak's ever gonna prove me wrong. Just back him into a corner and go from there._

 _So have I_ , thought Peeta.

"I care more about her then I can even begin to explain," he went on, still clenching his teeth. "I'd give my whole life for her. I'd do anything to make her happy because that's all I care about – making her happy."

 _So do I_ , thought Peeta again.

"So just do what I say and back off," warned Gale with a venomous tone. "I'm not gonna let the girl I love get swept off her feet by some guy she hardly knows. Put yourself in my shoes, Peeta. You think that's fair to me? I've been crazy about her for years and I've always been asking for us to be together, yet she's said no every time. But I'm not giving up on her and there's no way I'm letting you get all over her. You really think it's fair that a guy who's been her best friend for years gets rejected but a guy she's just started talking to gets to win her heart? I know if you were me, you wouldn't think it was fair and I guarantee you'd feel the same. Sucks I'm the one getting treated like she barely knows me, but not much I can do about it. But that doesn't mean I'm not gonna try and show her how much she means to me. I've been trying for years and guess what, Peeta? That's not gonna change now. Just because you're here and wanting to win her over doesn't mean I'm stepping down and letting you do that...because I'm not. So as long as you stay away from her, there'll be no trouble between us, got it?"

"Got it," was Peeta's response.

"Not bad. You listen well, Bread Boy." Without a word, he then turned and stalked off and though he wasn't even staring in Peeta's direction, Peeta could still feel the dark, haunting eyes inspecting his every move.

 _Sorry Gale, but there's no_ _way_ _I can just back off,_ thought Peeta, as he was watching Gale make his way out of the cafeteria. _I've loved this girl for eleven years and maybe you don't know that but I'm not standing on the sidelines anymore. I might have been silent for eleven years, but that's in the past. I_ _am_ _going to keep talking to Katniss and work things out with her. If you want to put a hurt on me, fine. But she means enough to me that I'm willing to put up with whatever you can throw at me. Maybe Katniss won't want to see me anymore, and if that's the case, then I really can't stop you from going after her. But just know that as long as she's okay with talking to me and spending time with me, there's no way I'll stay away from her. I've been waiting for too long to bring her into my life to let you try and convince me I'm better off leaving her alone. I'll do_ _whatever it takes to work things out with her. If there's anyone in the world I'll never give up on – it's Katniss Everdeen._


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

 **SEPTEMBER**

" _Not bad. You listen well, Bread Boy_."

Peeta replayed Gale's last words to him over in his head and all he could think to himself was, _not really._ Of course he would never tell this to Gale, so without a word he turned and made his way to the entrance doors. He kept his eyes forward without any fear of glancing back, though he knew what he'd see if he did and that was the hawk-like eyes of Gale still watching him carefully. He wouldn't actually be there, though. He was probably on his way to his next class by now, and indeed he was.

Though Gale was probably gone and in his next class by now, Peeta still didn't feel comfortable turning his head and staring at the table they'd just been sitting at. In the sea of grey he'd looked into, he'd found nothing but suspicion and doubt. Here was a guy who'd known Katniss for so many years and yet it seemed like she was developing a kind of interest for the boy in her art class. There was no question this infuriated Gale, knowing that he'd been in love with her since the age of twelve. But at the same time, Peeta had loved her for just as many years as Gale had been friends with her. There was one major difference between them, however. Where Gale had actually approached and spoken to her, Peeta had been silent and shy without any clue of what to say to her and because of that, it was Gale who'd grown close to her and not him.

 _She and I might have gotten together_ , he thought, his head hurting. _Maybe if I wouldn't have been so scared to talk to her, we could have been together already. But all I did was stand there and do nothing but watch her in silence_. _If only I'd done what Gale did_. _If I would have just done what he did, then we might have been friends for a long time and things might have just happened from there._

He had to put those thoughts aside for now though. He had one last class to get to before school was over and he was free to leave, so he went back to his locker to fetch his bag. He took his biology text and put it inside while removing his art and math texts. He knew he'd have to come back later and grab his math text, since he hadn't even gotten half of the questions done. He'd been too occupied thinking about how to ask Katniss to hang out with him. To his relief, he'd succeeded and the two had shared a fun, enjoyable lunch...till Rye had crawled in and made a horrid mess of things. Now, she was ignoring him completely and he'd be lucky to get even a word with her before the day was officially done.

Once he had his biology book tucked into his bag, he turned and headed down the hall, up the stairs and was just about to head into class when he stopped himself. He wasn't entirely sure what he was doing or why he was stopping, but he got the strangest feeling that he should be doing something. It took him all but a few seconds to realize what it was he had to do. He couldn't just go into class and try and distract himself with what Mr. Boggs was saying. No. What he had to do was try and get a hold of Katniss and let her know that he was thinking about her, and that he wanted to talk about the incident at lunch. He couldn't let her think that he didn't care and that it was no big deal to him because it was the biggest deal, and it was eating him up to the point where his head was aching.

 _She probably doesn't want much to do with me right now though_ , thought Peeta, pulling his phone out and feeling like whatever it was he'd text her, it would never truly emphasize just how worried and troubled he was. _But I gotta try_. _I_ _can't just sit around and wait for her to come to me. I gotta be the one to go to her. She might ignore me and not want anything to do with me, but I have to make the effort_.

Katniss had given him her number a week ago, and he'd given her his. They'd both done this so if one ever had a question regarding math homework or art projects, they could simply call or text the other. But Katniss having been okay with giving him her number made Peeta think she clearly trusted him enough to have told him it. It wasn't just something you went around giving strangers and people at random. Peeta knew the two had only known each other for a short period of time – it hadn't even been a full month yet – but Katniss must have felt comfortable enough to give her partner in art class her number, otherwise she wouldn't have suggested they exchange numbers in the first place.

But he was debating about whether or not to send her a text. The fact that she'd just been told some incredibly personal secrets of Peeta's past – all of which were about her – made him think she'd want some alone time. For a little while at least. For how long, he wasn't sure. A day? A few days? A week? Longer than a week? And the more he thought about it, the more he knew that he couldn't blame her. It was a lot to take in, more so because it had been announced all at once. She'd want some time to think things through, consider what Rye had said and ultimately, reflect on the bit of time she and Peeta _had_ spent together. But though he knew he couldn't be angry with her or blame her for her getting up and walking off, it didn't make dealing with it any easier. It was difficult to go from feeling on top of the world at that he might just have a chance at becoming friends with her...to feeling crushed and humiliated with very little hope that she'd want to speak with him. But despite how much he was hurting, he couldn't roll over and sit in his tears. He had to reach out to her.

 _I'll just send her a quick one_ , thought Peeta, his mind decided. _Just to let her know how I feel and that I'd like to speak with her. That way, I won't seem desperate but it'll let her know that I'm thinking about what happened. But then hopefully she'll think I'm not pushing anything on her or trying to convince her she has to talk to me. Okay, Mellark. Just keep it nice and simple and don't sound pushy. If you can do that, maybe this whole mess can work itself out. Hopefully._

He made sure to keep the text short, brief and to the point. The last thing he wanted was to send her the longest text in history detailing how sorry he was about what Rye had said and how he couldn't stand not having her around. He had the grim feeling that any chance he and Katniss had together truly would be thrown right out the window, and there'd be no chance of ever getting it back again. He had to be simple, yet still emphasize the point.

He wrote: _Hi. I know you might not want to talk to me right now, and I completely understand if you don't, but I'd really like to see you and talk to you about what happened earlier at lunch. Again, if you don't want to, I understand. I know what Rye said was a lot to take in and I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to see or talk to me right now. I can't imagine where your head's at with all of this but if mine's spinning, then I can't even think where yours is. But I have some things I do want to say to you. Do you want to meet after class by my locker? I promise not to keep you long. Please reply if you get a chance. Thanks._

He gave it a quick re-read to make sure it didn't sound demanding or pushy. He even gave it a second re-read just to be sure and feeling that it was alright and as honest and genuine as he could make it, he sent it. The only question now was: was she going to respond? He didn't know, but all he could do was go to class, try and focus as best as he could on biology and wait and see what happened. He tucked his phone back into his pocket and checked that it was on vibrate before entering class. He usually wasn't one to text in class at all since he _did_ care about doing well in school and knew he had plenty of time between his free, lunch and after school for using his phone. The fact that Mr. Boggs would have given him grief about using his phone in class also had something to do with that. If that guy caught him texting for so much as a minute, his phone would be snatched out of his hand so fast that he wouldn't even have time to hit send and deliver his message to whoever it was he'd been texting.

Ignoring his phone turned out to be not so easy. It definitely proved more challenging than he would have guessed.

That class, Mr. Boggs was introducing the various environmental cycles which included carbon, nitrogen and phosphorus. Up till now, Peeta had found the class not tedious, and certainly not as dull as others had claimed it to be. But sitting there listening to Mr. Boggs go on and on and on as if he'd never stop...the class was feeling about as dull and tedious as watching a tree grow. Worse, each student had been given four diagrams illustrating the cycles that Mr. Boggs expected to be done throughout class while he was explaining them. Peeta was able to get the first two complete without feeling _too_ distracted, but halfway through the class he was quickly zoning out. He hadn't wanted to, but suddenly the diagrams looked blurry and the voice of Mr. Boggs was sounding muffled and unclear. All he could think about was the phone in his pocket, the text he'd sent her and if she'd already read it. He fought hard to keep his attention on the diagrams but with each passing second, his interest in the phone was starting to grow and there was no stopping it.

"Peeta?" came a stern voice.

Just then, he felt sure he was going insane. Staring up at him from the unfinished diagram was Katniss. He could hear the joy and laughter in her voice as she called up to him, "I don't need you Peeta. Gale's the one I want and the one I need. Just stay out of this. What? You think just because we're in art class together that we can become friends? Give me a break. And what? Just because we have lunch together once you expect me to suddenly fall head over heels in love with you? You're a fuckin' baker boy, Peeta! What's so attractive about a guy that decorates cakes and bakes bread?"

" _Peeta_?" came the stern voice again, much louder this time.

Peeta stared down at the image of Katniss and just shook his head in utter confusion. What was she talking about? Clearly this couldn't be the Katniss he knew. She might have looked like her with her deep grey eyes and black hair that was done up in a braid, but she'd never say things like this. Since their first day of school, she'd never once said anything like this. And she was hardly ever one to swear, so this couldn't possibly be her...could it?

"I'm happy with Gale," she said, giving him a smirk. He then saw the image of Gale coming into focus. He walked up behind her, wrapped his long arms around her waist and planted a playful kiss on the top of her head. He instantly locked his eyes on Peeta's, gave a little wink and returned to holding Katniss...his Katniss. It was clear this girl no longer belonged to Peeta but instead, belonged only to Gale. The evidence was staring him right in the face.

"You're just a silly bread boy with a hopeless crush. Go find yourself another girl if you can. Just please, _please_ back off Peeta Mellark. I don't want you. What girl like me would ever find a boy like you charming? The only one I find charming is Gale. Here, you've been a coward your whole life. You had your chance to come talk to me but you chickened out and kept living life as a wuss. You're kidding yourself if you honestly think I'd fall for anyone else but Gale. He's the one I love and will always love. Sorry, Peeta, but you're just gonna have to get yourself another girl. Good luck...and may the odds be ever in your favour."

As for Gale, he had all but one final thing to say to Peeta. There was something he wished to remind him of so with an arrogant grin, he snarled, "Just back the fuck off, Mellark." The familiar words went in one ear and out the other though for Peeta. He was still struggling to wrap his head around what his eyes were showing him. He searched his mind to come up with something that would explain why he was seeing what he was seeing...but came up empty. All he knew was that Katniss was staring at Gale with a shimmer in her eyes and there was no doubting she'd given her heart to him.

What happened next only confirmed that ten times over.

She leaned forward, brought her lips onto Gale's and Peeta swore the world was starting the spin, his head was spiralling out of control and his vision was going black. He had to fight to keep it together. He tried reaching his hand out but found his body couldn't move. He opened his mouth to begin shouting but for whatever reason his voice had vanished. There had to be something he could do though! He couldn't just stand there and—

"Peeta!"

Peeta shook his head, gave a startled 'huh?' and finally snapped out of it. Still dazed, he looked up to see his teacher staring down at him with a disapproving look that told him he wasn't impressed. Mr. Boggs was hardly ever impressed about anything but right then he was about as impressed as if he'd just been told he was fired from Madderson High. Peeta hadn't even noticed him leave the front of the room and start walking around to examine everyone's work. It was like the guy and everyone else in that entire room had turned invisible, and all he'd been able to make out was what he'd seen unfolding on his desk.

 _So much for ignoring my phone_ , was all he could think. He'd been thinking so much about the text he'd sent Katniss and if she'd seen it yet that he was starting to let his mind get the better of him and lock him into a world of hallucinations. He knew what he'd seen on his pages had only been a figment of his imagination but it didn't exactly make him feel any better about the situation and how, if possible, it might resolve itself.

"You've still got two cycles to complete and class is almost over," Mr. Boggs said, pointing at the two blank sheets of paper on Peeta's desk. In a much sterner tone, he added, "If these aren't finished in the ten minutes that are left, they're homework for tomorrow, and I'll expect to see them done. Is that clear?"

"Sorry," said Peeta in embarrassment and quickly picked up his pencil. "Y-yeah, I'll get on them." _Maybe I should have just left my phone in my locker till after class. But then I wouldn't have been able to see if Katniss texted me back. No, I guess it's my fault. I just wasn't careful enough and let Boggs catch me texting. I wonder what he's got against cell phones anyway?_

"Alright then," said Mr. Boggs. He gave Peeta a final disapproving look and then turned and continued walking about the room to inspect other students' diagrams. "And if I catch you with that phone again, Peeta, I might just have to take it, so I'd suggest acting wisely and not using it again if I were you. And that goes for the rest of you. Any phones I see out and in use, they'll end up on my desk till you've both finished and handed your work into me."

Boggs was about the strictest teacher in the school when it came to cell phones, and almost always took them when he caught students texting secretly under their desk. He gave them back, of course, but not till class had finished, the class bell had rung and he'd received that hour's worth of assignments. Texting under the table and hoping teachers wouldn't see wasn't normally something Peeta did...but thiswas different. Where pretty much every person in that room was texting simple, unimportant things that could wait for another time or even after class, Peeta had a highly good reason for checking his phone. Or he thought so, anyway. It was clear that Mr. Boggs couldn't care one way or the other what went on in Peeta's phone. No big surprise there since he hated cell phones in general and would have banned the use of them in all of District Twelve if he could have. He'd probably get even angrier if he knew Peeta was texting some girl in another class because all he'd conclude was that Peeta felt more concerned about a girl than he did his own mark in biology.

He couldn't expect his teacher to understand just how much this girl meant to him and he doubted trying to explain the situation to him would do anything. He just couldn't imagine himself saying, "Well, long story short, I've really been in love with this girl since I was five years old and ever since I've been wanting to work up the nerve to talk to her. Then on my first day of art, she and I end up in the same class together and so far, we've been getting along pretty well. But then one day at lunch, my brother came, spilled all my life-long secrets to her and now she knows I've had an enormous crush on her since we were kids. Now I'm afraid she'll want nothing to do with me because her head's probably going to explode from everything she was told and on top of all that, my head feels like it'll explode because I can't think of how on earth to fix it all! And that's why I was using my phone because I wanted to see if she'd like to see and talk to me after class. That's all."

Trying to say it like that to a guy like Boggs would have been suicide. As a man that cared only about teaching and drilling facts into the minds of his students, hearing a story like that would have gotten him more worked up than catching students texting in class. Knowing this, he was just grateful the teacher hadn't snatched his phone from him because now wasn't the best time to have that happen. It was the only thing that would inform him how Katniss was feeling in this awkward mess that his older brother had created.

Peeta knew he should get the two diagrams done and out of the way so he wouldn't have to bring them home with him, but his mind was too far away. There was a good chance that if he didn't get to speak to Katniss one on one with no fear of interruptions where the two could be alone and he could reveal everything to her, she might not want to see him again. Worse, she might even request to be dropped out of art class; it wasn't too late to drop out of a class either. She only required a single credit in art to graduate and that could always be taken next year, or in grade twelve. It occurred to him that she might have been so freaked out by what Rye had said that she felt too uncomfortable and awkward around Peeta anymore, so she'd simply switch to another class. If she went and did that, then there wouldn't be any hopes of the two bumping into each other throughout the day. The most he could hope for was a quick glance from her as she was getting her books out of her locker but if the two weren't talking then any eye contact they shared would be all but meaningless.

 _It was nothing_ , he told himself, and glued his eyes to the diagrams in front of him. _You're just worried about what Katniss is thinking and now you're seeing things. Just...just keep focused, Mellark. Don't let it get to your head that there's no hope in working things out with her. That wasn't really Katniss. It was just some trick of your mind. You can't just give up when she hasn't even texted you back yet! The best thing to do is focus on the diagrams. Just keep your head in biology and not think about what your head's telling you...just keep focused._

From the time he checked at the beginning of class till the till the time he was putting his things away, there was still no word from Katniss and Peeta was starting to get worried. He'd been worried up till now but the fact that she was ignoring him made him fear that she really didn't want to be bothered with him right then. This confirmed what he'd already guessed, but hated to have to accept. She _didn't_ want to see or talk to him right now. It was all too obvious and staring him in the face – leaving him at lunch without saying a word and ignoring his text when he knew she always kept her phone with her in classes – and that was that she wanted to be left alone. It tore him up because he felt sure that if he could just explain things to her in a slow and gradual manner than she might not react so strongly to what Rye had revealed. But she already knew how he felt about her so trying to tell her everything slowly was no longer an option. She knew it all and all he could hope for was that she'd sort of her feelings and ultimately, how she felt about Peeta.

 _If I could just talk to you, even for a minute_ , he thought, staring at the clock on the wall which seemed frozen from moving. _I'd explain everything. I just need a chance to help clarify things for you. That's all. I know Rye made it seem scary and maybe even a bit creepy but maybe it just sounded that way because of how he said it. He just blurted the whole thing out but if I were to tell you, I wouldn't have said it like that. Guess it's too late now though to wish I could tell you myself...because Rye already did that. If only I could turn back time._

 _He glanced up again at the clock but it was still moving just as slowly._ There was exactly five minutes left of class and the hands couldn't possibly move any slower. He really did think the hands were frozen in place but he knew that wasn't possible. It was just his own troubled mind still playing tricks on him, and attempting to convince him that the clock was indeed frozen in time.

For the remaining few minutes left in class, Peeta kept his eyes glued to his phone, never even looking up to see if Mr. Boggs was watching him. All he could think about right then was if Katniss was holding her phone and typing up a response to his message. He didn't stay fixed on that thought for long though because he knew the reality of the dilemma. He didn't expect to receive a text from Katniss, who was most likely chatting and laughing with someone else. Maybe her friends Glimmer, Clove, Madge or Johanna? Or perhaps Gale? If that were true, because the two shared the same free, then there was the risk of Hawthorne seeing the text he'd sent her and that was a thought that made his head scream. And after he'd just finished warning Peeta to 'back the fuck off', if he realized the guy was sending her texts asking to speak with her then he'd no doubt want to grab hold of Peeta and shove him into a wall and knock him right into next week. He knew it certainly wouldn't be good if Hawthorne discovered that Peeta wasn't backing off and was instead still doing all he could to work things out with Katniss.

 _He'd kill me_ , thought Peeta. _But you know what? Who cares? I'm not gonna back off just because he tells me to. I need to fix things with Katniss and whether he likes it or...I'm_ _going_ _to do that. No way I'm letting her go that easy. You've been hiding for too long, Peeta. That's not going to work anymore. You've wasted eleven years dreaming of the day you two would be together and you can't just roll over and do what Gale says. He can't control what you say or do, and he can't do that to Katniss either. You can't waste any more time. You have to do whatever it takes to try and sort this mess out. You have to let Katniss know that you do love her, but you have to find a way to tell her in a way where it won't sound creepy and obsessive the way Rye did. It has to be...real and sincere_ _._

Finally came the sound of the bell signalling the end of the day. Peeta slipped his phone into his pocket, grabbed his bag and hurried out of the room. As fast as he could, he flew down the flight of stairs, down the long hallway and saw the art rooms dead ahead. He felt like he was running fast enough to fall and trip over his feet, but he really wasn't going all that fast. He just felt as if he'd taken the steps two at a time and was now speeding down the halls as if he hadn't a second to lose.

When he reached his locker, he wasn't surprised. It hurt him and felt like a punch to the gut, but it still didn't come as a shock. He hadn't wanted to see it, but he'd also prepared himself for the chance that it most likely would be what his eyes would see, and it was indeed what he was seeing now. Katniss hadn't shown up which meant she didn't want to see or talk to him right then. He was angry, but not at her, because it made sense that she'd be acting the way she was. The person he was angry at was Rye. His brother had truly carved a hole in the friendly, pleasant bond they'd had growing between them over the past few weeks and now it was clearly damaged. Whether Peeta could _undo_ the damage his brother had done and restore the bond they'd shared just hours ago, that was the question. All he knew was that he'd stop at nothing to try and fix the unfortunate problem his brother had brought onto them.

He didn't stand there to give it much thought. He was tired, stressed, yet still very much determined to do whatever it took to get Katniss back to him. So after getting the books he needed, he left his locker and sauntered down the lonely hall, heading towards the school entrance. Students by this point were already outside either waiting for the bus or heading home. He was almost at the front doors when he stopped and glanced in at the cafeteria. He'd wanted to just keep on walking and not bother, but he couldn't resist a quick, curious peak.

When he glanced in he saw that it was practically empty, save for a few people.

It was the two people sitting near the back that made him stop what he was doing and stare. He watched them, and frowned when he saw her pick up her phone while the guy sat with his arms crossed casually. What made him snap out of it and head for home was a sudden turn of the girl's head. With how fast he'd moved, he knew she hadn't seen him, so she wasn't aware of the fact that he'd been watching her and the guy she was sitting with. It had been a dangerously close call though because if it had taken him even a second longer to move, he would have been caught for sure. Now he just had to make it out of there without being noticed by either one of them.

 _I wonder what they're talking about?_ Peeta wasn't too worried about running into them or the two catching sight of him hurrying through the halls. He knew the odds of them heading down the same hallway as him were pretty slim and though he didn't like it crossing his mind, he couldn't help wonder if the two might not be in such of a rush to leave. Were they having a serious conversation? Were they laughing and having such a good time that they might just decide to hang about the school for just a few minutes longer? That was a thing more than a few students did and it wouldn't have surprised him if they ended up hanging around for a while longer. _I guess it doesn't really matter. I just...I just hope she read my text. Either she hasn't read it yet and that was why she didn't show up at my locker or she just didn't want to. Maybe she wants some time with Gale right now? But are they talking about me or something else?_

It wasn't Katniss he'd so much minded seeing. It was him, the one she'd been sitting with – Gale Hawthorne. The guy with eyes like a hawk that stared him down with such intensity that he'd swear the guy wanted nothing more than to rip him to shreds with his bare hands. He didn't want to have to face the grey eyes that saw him as prey and a threat to the possible relationship he and Katniss could have, the relationship he so desperately, painfully wanted. Then again, the way Gale had stared him down just earlier made Peeta consider he wasn't just seen as prey...he was also seen as a _predator_ _._ He was a potential threat to his and Katniss's chance at a serious relationship and if Peeta kept up what he was doing, the hawk might just find himself without her and left alone in the dirt. So in a way, he was playing both the role of prey and predator. He wasn't entirely sure what it was worse being seen as: prey or predator.

All he wanted at that moment was a good night's sleep. He wanted to go home, crawl under the blankets and lose himself in a hopefully pleasant dream. He loved dreams because they were one of the rare and enjoyable times where everything worked out beautifully and there were no problems or people to worry about. In his dreams, he'd have no issues or dilemmas to have to concern himself with and his bond with Katniss would be pure and untouched. He tried convincing himself that all he needed was a good night's sleep to relax his mind and then the following day, he'd get right back up and try and put an end to the unnecessary problem that Rye had started. His first attempt at meeting with Katniss had failed, but he couldn't let that beat him up or tear him down. He had to stay strong and remind himself that just because his relationship with Katniss wasn't turning out as smoothly as he'd hoped...that didn't mean that he couldn't put things back together with time, patience and effort. If he could just speak with her face to face and explain things to her in a calm manner, then he might just able to fill the hole that Rye had punched in the bond they'd had forming between them.

If anything, he was even _more_ determined to keep trying. He'd try a _second_ attempt and not let her – Katniss, the girl he loved, the one and only girl he'd ever loved for eleven years – fall out of his grasp. There was no way he'd let her slip out of his life that easily. He wasn't the kind of guy that went down or accepted surrender without putting up a fight first. He'd come up with a plan and a way to use just the right words to fix this entire mess, as well as help sort out the many emotions running wildly through her head and more importantly...in her heart.

 _Don't worry Katniss_ , he silently called to her. He was now leaving the school grounds and hurriedly making his way for home where he could have time to think about how he could fix this. _I'll fix everything for you. I know things are confusing right now and your head's probably in a million places and mine is too, but I'm gonna fix everything...I promise._


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

 **SEPTEMBER**

Katniss sat at the very same table she and Peeta had been sitting at earlier, but this time it wasn't Peeta with her. It was Gale. Ever since Peeta had sent her a text asking to meet with her, all she wanted was to try and keep her mind off it. Distraction was what she wanted right then but there was more to it than that. She felt she needed to let herself get distracted and not have to think constantly about what Rye had overwhelmed her with. She didn't want it to consume her thoughts completely like a massive cloud, but that was _exactly_ what it was doing. That didn't mean though that she wasn't going to try and keep busy with her friend. The two had spent their hour-long free hanging out, chatting and generally not doing a whole lot, and though Gale had requested they go for a drive and grab something to eat, Katniss just didn't seem interested. She was trying hard to keep her mind off Peeta's text, but she just couldn't seem to think about anything else but that. It was frustrating because what she wanted was to think about anything other than that, but her mind didn't seem to think likewise.

"I don't really feel like going anywhere," she'd told him. "Let's just stay here."

"You don't want to go to the Hob?" he asked, a little thrown by her answer.

Her only response was to give a slight shrug.

"Really?" he asked. He then gave one of his usual, persuasive smiles and went on, "You sure you don't want to head down because I know how crazy you are when it comes to their wicked cheeseburgers? Have one of those put in front of you and it's lunch in heaven."

She gave another shrug and said, "Just not hungry I guess."

He paused briefly and told her, puzzled, "But you're always up for a cheeseburger. No one gets a craving for those more than you."

She stared down at the table for a long moment before finally registering what he'd said. When she returned her focus to Gale, he saw an unfamiliar look in her eyes that baffled him. The simple fact that she'd turned down a cheeseburger from her favourite eatery in town had been enough to convince him something was up. Never in the years that he'd known this girl had she once passed down a chance to eat at one of Twelve's most beloved restaurants. It didn't add up. Sure, she'd just eaten lunch but the two had almost always spent their free driving around enjoying a snack. Like him, she shared just as bit of an appetite and where others would start and finish with lunch, Katniss and Gale wouldn't.

"Just not craving one right now, I guess," was her reason.

"Not even one of their to-die-for desserts?" said Gale, hoping he'd somehow change her mind at the mention of the sweet, mouth-watering delicacies that belonged to the Hob. "Because I was kind of hoping for one of their choco-delight sundaes with that caramel drizzle."

"Not really."

Gale was surprised and more than a little thrown off at this response, since Katniss was usually always up for a quick drive and a bite to eat. How could she not be in the mood for a cheeseburger from the Hob? She practically loved that place and wore a smile on her face whenever they went there. He figured something was obviously on her mind and he couldn't help think he knew exactly who it dealt with – Peeta. _He'd only seen the two a few times sitting in art class and he hadn't let it bother him too much, but when he'd caught sight of the two sitting together at lunch smiling and laughing, things had gone too far. That had been the final straw for him and from that point on, he knew there was more going on between these two then Katniss was letting on. Spending time together was one thing but exchanging laughs and smiles was another. It was crossing the boundaries between just being partners in a class to suddenly becoming more than just that._

 _That little_ _freak_ _,_ he thought and felt a raging fire burning inside him. _Now he's messing with her head and who's left to try and snap her out of it? Me_. _I swear if he tries and gets close with her, he's gonna be dead. Count on it_.

The only thought racing through his mind was that Katniss wished to stay there in case Peeta wandered by and she could talk to him. The very thought was infuriating, and he couldn't imagine how he'd feel if he saw the two in front of him, chatting away and laughing like friends. He had always been an angry guy growing up and the very thought of Katniss with somebody else was enough to make him want to scream. Gale was indeed an angry guy, but he also wasn't dumb. Most times, he knew how to reel Katniss in like a fish on a line and if ever his anger did get the best of him and spiral out of control, he'd just reel her right back in. Katniss was aware of his problem with anger and how it had been something he'd been struggling with all his life, so she never thought too much of it. It wasn't an issue she ever concerned herself with too much because she knew that despite all the fire and rage in Gale, he was still her best friend. Best friends fought, argued and disagreed on several occasions and what with how close the two had become over the years, it wouldn't make sense to call off their friendship simply because Gale had trouble controlling his anger.

He replayed her words over in his head. " _I_ _don't really feel like going anywhere. Let's just stay here_."

 _Keep it cool, Hawthorne_ , he thought, keeping his eyes on Katniss, despite the fact that she wasn't focusing on him. _You got this_. Her eyes were only on the table, as if she were miles away and wanted no part of reality. He hated the fact that she'd even look anywhere else but into his own eyes, but he wasn't going let his usual anger get the best of him and make itself known.

"That's fine," he said casually. "Whatever you want. We can always go another time."

Throughout the hour, the two had gone back and forth between chatting and texting. Gale was busy laughing over some ridiculous joke with one of his friends that was a lot more stupid than it was funny. Katniss didn't find the joke overly funny and thought it was pretty childish, but kept her mouth shut. She, on the other hand, hadn't been doing a whole lot of texting. She was too focused on a particular message that she'd gotten just under an hour ago. She'd gotten it when she was on her way back to the cafeteria to meet up with Gale and since then she'd re-read the message at least five or six times. Each time she read over it, she hoped things would make more sense or at least feel less confusing. She had no idea of what she was thinking or feeling and because of that she chose to ignore the text. Until she figured out what she wanted to do, she couldn't respond to it. She wasn't going to text him back when her feelings were so jumbled up because she was afraid she'd text him back and say something she didn't quite mean. Until she got her head on straight and figured out where her thoughts stood, she hadto try and not think about taking her phone and typing up a response.

Gale sensed more than once that she was lost in thought, but though she caught his eyes watching her closely, she remained silent. She knew all too well the look he was giving her. It was one of concern and she appreciated the fact that he cared enough about her to be there when she needed it. She knew that her friend sensed that she wasn't being very talkative and that probably made Gale think that whatever it was that she was distracted about, it was something serious otherwise she would have let it go and simply forget about it.

 _Why don't you just show me what's on that phone?_ he thought, fighting the urge to just lean over and snatch it out of her hand. _Whatever. Bet she's got that blond freak on it_ _and I_ _bet_ _that blond creep's got_ _Katniss on his. Oh, you'd better be smart and back off bread boy. I hope you're as smart as people say you are because if you're truly as smart as you think you are then you'll stay the hell away from us. Don't even think of trying to come between us. This girl's known me for years and no way am I letting a guy who paints pretty little pictures and decorates pretty little cakes steal her from me. No...fuckin'...way._

"So how's art class been?" he asked her. "Anything special happened lately, or is it just same old same old?"

There was ten minutes left till the end of the day, and what Gale wanted right then more than anything else was answers. Or a clue of some sort. It was too frustrating having to sit there and watch her stare at the desk, tap her fingers or fiddle with her phone when he knew that she knew all too well that he was right there watching her. It wasn't like she'd suddenly forgotten that he was there; it was that her mind was elsewhere and he had a pretty good idea as to where it was and who was there with her. It wasn't a thing he had to have spelled out for him in words.

 _Art class with Peeta_ , he thought furiously. _What? You miss him so bad that that's all you can think about now? You wanna go paint a pretty little picture with him? Do some drawing and then hang it up on the wall? Give me a break, Katniss! What the hell's the matter with you anyway_?

"It's good," she said, putting her phone down. "But it's not my favourite class. I still like math better. But I won't lie, it's definitely better than history. That's about the most boring class ever, in my opinion."

Gale nodded in agreement and said, "Have any friends, or people to talk to besides Peeta?" He gave her a grin, and then added jokingly, "Or are you a little loner? Aw, that's mean. I shouldn't say that. But I do hope you have friends because I've got no friends in my history class and let me tell you, it's a drag. Pretty much sucks. All my other friends don't have it till next semester. But hopefully you've got some friends in art to keep you company."

Katniss shrugged and said, "Well, not really. He's the only one I ever talk to. We're still not really friends I guess, but we talk in class and he helps me with assignments and stuff, since he loves art and all. He's crazy about it. He's kind of a tutor, I guess. He helps me out with art and I give him a hand in math. That way he'll do well in math and I'll do well in art."

 _A tutor, huh_? thought Gale suspiciously. _And I'm sure this tutor of yours is just desperate to get his greedy little hands all over you. Oh, you're really asking for it, aren't ya Bread Boy_? _I hope you're clever enough to listen to what I told you and back the fuck off_ _or else you're gonna regret it._

Gale kept his eyes locked on hers and said, "Oh?" He then made sure to hide the venom in his searching voice when he asked calmly, "So he's like a tutor then, huh?"

"Yeah," Katniss admitted. "Mr. Odair's awesome and all but it's nice having that extra bit of help during class, especially since the teacher can't always be there to answer questions. Not when there's so many people in the class. At least Peeta can always help me out if I need it."

Gale didn't respond right away. He only went on staring at Katniss and letting his mind go to places he didn't quite want it to, but there was no stopping it. _Oh, I'm sure it's just fabulous. I had a feeling that guy would try and get in deep with you by helping you out. Well, might as well try and get some answers out of ya. Let's see just exactly how you feel about this guy_.

"So...he a handsome fella?"

" _What_?" was all Katniss could say, and the confusion was all but palpable in her voice. It was rare that Gale ever said things that genuinely confused her but right then, she was pretty taken aback. Why did it matter to him if she thought he was handsome or not? What did that have to do with anything when he was only a tutor?

"Just curious about what you think of him," said Gale bluntly, still keeping his tone calm and casual. "You think he's a looker? Prince Charming? Hottie? The man of your dreams?"

"Gale, why do even care—"

"You _know_ why I care!" he said firmly, his voice filled with passion. He could no longer keep his tone calm and in control. He had to let Katniss know just how much he cared about her. He felt she already knew, but he always felt it was worthwhile reminding her just in case she ever forgot or it slipped her mind. "Here we've been friends for so many years and then suddenly you're in class with some other guy who's scheming, probably up to no good and—

"Gale, you don't even know him!" Katniss argued, and then went on in frustration, "You're always like this. You see a guy come near me and all hell breaks loose! Every time it's like world war three. You gotta stop acting like that."

"I can't," he told her, fighting to keep calm and not let his anger get the best of him.

 _Dam right I can't_. _No way I'd ever let some guy take you from me, especially when it's some freak like Peeta Mellark. Of all_ _the guys in this school for you to get a crush on? A guy that paints and bakes cookies? Holy crap, you need to get your head on straight, Katniss. I'm the guy you should be after. Too bad you can't see that_. _He's got you so blind you can't even see right._

Katniss sighed, bit her lip and said, " _Yes_ , you can. I know you don't think so, but you can."

"I wish you'd just stop ignoring what's right in front of you," he said, annoyed. He then took a breath, and feeling like he'd calmed himself down enough, slid his hand slowly across the table. He saw her hand flat on the table, her fingers tapping the table in a set rhythm. He hesitated for a moment, but then reached out and took her hand into his own. He knew what to expect but it still drove him crazy all the same. As she'd done so many times, she pulled her hand away.

 _You've known me for four years_ , he thought furiously. _Four years_ _and you still can't even hold my hand? What the hell's it gonna take to get you to love me?_ _What is it about me that you just can't find appealing_? _What does that Mellark guy have that I don't_ _because last time I checked the answer was nothing?_

"No, I can't," he said finally, and his voice softened significantly. "Katniss, you know how much I love you. It's been like that forever. Why can't you just give me a chance? Here you've known me all your life and we've done everything together but yet you'll go and talk with some guy in your art class and—"

"Stop!" she said firmly, her eyes hard as steel. "Gale, just stop. I know you're my friend but you don't have the right to go around spying on everything I do or everyone I meet. You just don't get that. If you really cared about me and were the great friend you keep saying you are...then you'd let me be! Remember before when you said you'd probably start acting like a big brother if you ever saw me with some other guy? Well, that's exactly how you're acting right now! You're going on like Peeta's the worst guy you've ever met but you don't even know him. I know him better than you because we're in the same class but you've never even spoken to him! How can you say all that when you two haven't once talked to each?"

Gale sighed quietly and grumbled, "We uh...we have spoken, actually."

Katniss stared at him for a long moment, surprised, before asking him, "When?"

"Today."

"And what'd you guys say?" she asked, her eyes nowhere but on his now.

"Not much," he said. "I just asked him how his classes were going and he asked me how mine were. Pretty much all we talked about though. Other than that, we didn't really say a whole lot."

Katniss raised a brow as if not entirely convinced. "But what made you think to even talk to him in the first place? You're not friends with him, so why'd you go talk to him at all?"

No answer from Gale.

"Gale?" she pressed, the firmness in her voice resurfacing.

"What?" he exclaimed. "I just told you what happened."

"Yeah, but there's gotta be more to it than that," she argued. "I just don't see what reason you would have had to go talk to him. You don't share any classes with him and you never hang out with him so...what made you want to speak with him?"

Gale bit his lip, looked her straight in the eye and said bluntly, "Because I wanted to tell him to back off."

"From what?"

"From you!" he blurted out. With a chuckle, he added, "I had to let him know he wasn't the only one that's been crushing on you. Here he thinks he can just—"

"Wait," said Katniss, the disbelief showing plainly on her bewildered face. "So you told him to back off?"

With a shrug, he told her, "I had to, Catnip. I just...I just can't let him steal you from me." _What I really said was to back the fuck off...but why give her that little detail?_

"Why would you even do that?" she asked, her expression growing hard.

"Because if I didn't, he'd crawl right in and make you his. Maybe you don't think that would happen, but I've got eyes and I'd say it's bound to happen."

"You don't know anything that will happen," she corrected. "I don't and neither do you."

"Oh, I know," he muttered under his breath.

"Gale, what were you thinking?" he sighed, sounding suddenly tired and more than a little annoyed. "Peeta hasn't done a thing to you and yet you go and tell him to back off. Who put you in charge here anyway? What makes you think you're over everyone else? Peeta's got the freedom to do whatever he wants and yet you think you can take control over what he does? You can't do that, Gale!"

"He's gonna steal you from me!" said Gale heatedly. "Trust me on that, Catnip. The way he looks at you, talks to you, it...it's pretty clear what he wants and what he wants is you for himself. He wants me shoved in the dirt so he can have you all to yourself. I can't let him do that or else—"

"But you can't control people's lives!" Katniss chastised. "You don't go treating people like that and thinking you can tell them what to say and do because you can't! Peeta's done nothing wrong to you or me or anyone else. He's been a great help to me in art and I doubt he said anything to you like what you said to him."

"You don't understand," said Gale, dropping his gaze and closing his eyes. "You're everything to me. I just want us to have more together. Why can't you want that too? What is about me that you just can't... _love_ _?_ You like me and I'm your best friend but what's stopping you from feeling more? Is there something I haven't been doing right? Because if there isn't, I'd really like to know. I'd do anything to get you to love me. You know that, Katniss."

There was a long pause till Katniss finally spoke.

"Gale," said Katniss softly, not wanting to sound too harsh. "I _don't_ love you, not in that way. You're an amazing friend and I love spending time with you but...I just don't feel _that_ way about you. I'm sorry. I know that's not what you want to hear, but it's how I feel."

"We should be doing more though," he muttered in disappointment. "Hanging out more, kissing and—"

"But we're not dating, Gale! We can't be kissing if we're not even together. What about that don't you understand?"

"But we should be!" he shot back, his voice now close to that of a shout. He'd been doing a great job of containing his anger up till now. No longer could he go on suppressing it though. "We've known each other for years. Don't you think it's time we took it further? Did more, acted more like a couple? Wouldn't you like that? How can you say you wouldn't at least like to see what it was like?"

"Gale, just because I've known you for years doesn't mean you can just _expect_ me to automatically fall in love with you. That doesn't happen. I know you want it to, but I just _don't_ feel like that about you. I see you as my best friend but that's it. You need to accept that."

 _Can't believe you don't even love me_ , and right then Gale was feeling more discouraged than he'd ever remembered feeling in his eighteen years of living. _After all the time we've spent together you still only see me as a friend. Don't you even know how unfair that is to me_? _No...you're only thinking of yourself and not even considering the pain I'm going through._

Gale was silent. Katniss could tell he was struggling to keep from shouting out and continue arguing while trying to get her to see things _his_ way. Growing up, he was constantly expressing his anger and hatred at things and had such a hard time boggling it all up. Most times he failed and to this day he still found it hard to keep himself under control. But she never got too upset or bothered by his outrages because she knew he tried his hardest to not let it get too crazy, but it was usually something he just couldn't help. The fact that he was her best friend also helped because if it were a casual friend of hers, she definitely wouldn't have put up with it. But she'd been through so much with Gale and knew that no matter how much anger he took out on her she knew deep down...he didn't mean a word of it. He was just fighting an ongoing, never-ending battle of fire and anger that almost always seemed to get the best of him.

"Fine," he said with no emotion. "If you want to go play with little bread boy, go ahead. You go get all warm and close to a guy you barely know and leave me here, a guy who has _always_ been there for you. I've done so much for you and have been there for you every time you needed me. But here Peeta's done not one single thing for you and yet you're going on about him like you've known him forever."

"Gale, just calm down," said Katniss quietly. She reached out to take his arm, but he only pushed it away and gave her a look of such anger, sadness and hurt that Katniss could actually _feel_ his emotion. It was all pouring out of him like a river of grief that she felt she might get swept up in at any moment. She could see that he was clenching his teeth and wanting so badly to lash out at something. "Gale, you're getting mad again. Just calm down, okay? It's alright."

Gale stared her right in the eye for what felt like an eternity before sighing and telling her quietly, "There's more. I know you think I'm just jealous and maybe that's why I'm acting like this but it's not everything."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"It's...it's about Peeta," he started, but was quickly cut off.

"Gale, you don't even know him," said Katniss, and had to hold back from raising her voice. She knew Gale was upset and she knew he didn't quite understand what he was saying, but that didn't mean it didn't make her angry just the same. They'd argued a lot over the years but they'd always ended up pushing their arguments aside and remembering how good of friends they were. She had no doubt this time would be no different. "You haven't even talked to the guy or—"

"No, but I...there's just something about him, Katniss," he told her directly and his voice was so quiet that it sounded more like a whisper. "I can't put my finger on it but there's just...just something about him that gives me a bad feeling. Don't ask me what it is because I don't even know but I don't get a good feeling when I think of him."

She was about to interrupt again, but he made sure to stop her.

"Please, just let me finish," he pleaded, and then continued, "I know I haven't talked to him or anything and I know I don't know much about him, but I just get an uneasy feeling when I look at him. Even when we talked at lunch, I just got this weird feeling like there was more going on with him than he was letting on. Like he was keeping secrets and hiding stuff, you know? And I won't lie to you Katniss. I would be jealous if you and he did get together but I love you enough that I'd accept that. I know it wouldn't make me happy, but I care too much about you to ever give you a hard time because you'd want to be with another guy. Even if it took a month of longer or however long, I'd accept it and let you be happy because that's more important to me than my own happiness. I mean that, too. I'd never give you a hard time about falling for another guy. I guess what I'm trying to say here is that...I just care so much about you. I'd hate to see you get hurt or...or have your heart broken by this guy. That's all. I don't want anything bad to happen to you, Catnip."

Katniss was silent for a long while till she finally spoke up and said, "I know Gale, but there's nothing to worry about. You probably just got a wrong first impression of him and then that got you thinking the worst but you shouldn't be nervous. He's a really nice guy. He wouldn't try and hurt me or—"

"But you've only known him for what? Two weeks? Three?" he challenged. _How does it even make sense that you'd fall in love that quickly, Katniss? A few weeks and now you're into this guy? Makes no fuckin' sense._ "That's not a very long time, Katniss! Do you really know him well enough to know he'd never lay a finger on you or yell at you or give you a hard time about something? What if he tried to pressure you into things you just weren't ready for? Then what? Do you think he'd care about you the way I do?"

"Gale, I don't even know how I feel about him right now," Katniss explained, wishing he'd see where she was coming from. "We're not even really friends. We just work on stuff together in art and I help him out in math. You don't have to get all upset about it. I know you care about me and I appreciate that, Gale. I do. But if a guy was ever giving me a hard time or trying to hurt me, you know I'd come straight to you, right?"

"Yes," he said quickly, and went on, "But I still worry about you. Seems like it's hard to trust guys around here, you know? You never really know what they're up to or if they're who they say they are. I just want you to be careful. Don't go trusting someone you've only known for a short while. Okay?"

"I will, Gale," she said, and gave him a small smile. "And I meant what I said. If a guy ever tried to hurt me, you'd be the first one to know."

He returned her smile with one of his own and said softly, "I know. And I'm...I'm sorry for getting so mad. You know I didn't mean any of that. All that stuff just comes right out of me and most of the time and I can't even remember what I said. I hate that it's like that. I just wish I didn't get so angry about stuff."

"It's not a big deal," she said in understanding. "I know you've been struggling with your anger for a long time now but I know you never mean what you say, so it's all good. People have stuff they battle all the time and anger's just what you're battling."

"I always feel so bad, though," he told her with a frown. "Especially when I take it out on you. I shouldn't be taking it out on my best friend. You're the last person in the world I'd want to go yelling at."

"It's okay, Gale," she said sympathetically. "I know you care and I know you just don't want to see me get hurt. But I promise if a guy ever tried to hurt me in any way, I'd let you know. I'm glad that you're my best friend and I do appreciate you wanting to be there for me. I really do. But can you just promise me something?"

"Anything."

"Don't go telling Peeta to back off or anything like that ever again," she said seriously. "He really is an okay guy and no one deserves to be talked to like that. And I meant what I said. If he ever tried to say or do anything bad to me, you'd be the first to know, alright? If I get a red flag around him, I'll make sure my cousin finds out."

"Uhh, your cousin?" he asked. He blinked and asked in a perplexed tone, "What's your cousin got anything to do with—"

Katniss chuckled in amusement and watching her laugh, still Gale couldn't unravel what she was finding so amusing. Was it something he'd said? Or was she just laughing out of the blue for no particular reason? Even after a moment had passed, he still hadn't clued in to what she had meant when she'd said 'my cousin'.

"It's you, Gale," she revealed, still chuckling at his reaction. "You're my cousin...remember?"

He broke out in a wide grin and said, "Ahh, right...I got it now. Almost forget all our friends call us the 'unrelated cousins'. Johanna, Madge, Glimmer Clove. They all think we're cousins, just cousins that aren't related by blood."

"I guess we could pass as being cousins though," Katniss pointed out. It was true. What with their grey eyes, olive skin and dark-colored hair, anyone would have naturally assumed they were related by blood. It would have surprised anyone to discover that they were in fact only friends, and weren't related at all despite their similarities in appearances.

"Who knows?" said Gale jokingly, giving her a playful tap on the shoulder. "Maybe we are cousins?"

"Could be," she said. "Everyone else seems to think so."

"Guess it's true then," declared Gale with finality. While holding back a laugh, he went on, "You and I are cousins."

After a minute of laughing, Katniss asked him, "But will you try and do what I said about not giving Peeta a hard time about—"

"Don't worry," he assured her sincerely. "I won't be giving him a hard time anymore. I was mad and out of it back then at lunch but I'm alright now, really. I just need to wrap my head around things, calm down and I should be fine. But I mean that. No more telling people to back off."

Katniss gave a small smile and offered, "Who knows? Maybe all this trouble you've been having for years with your anger...maybe it'll come to an end soon. I can't see it lasting forever, not with a guy like you. A few years of anger can't go on for that much longer. Maybe your time's coming."

"I hope so," he told her softly.

"Me too."

 _Nicely done, Hawthorne_ , thought Gale proudly, impressed by how well he'd redirected the mood of their conversation. _Just like reeling in fish and you've got her right on the hook. Of course she's not gonna get mad at your little outrage. She's seen enough of those to know that you don't mean any of it. Four years she's put up with it and she'll keep on putting up with it. Thank God I'm her best friend because I can get away with getting upset. Hell, I can get away with pretty much anything. This should be easier than I thought. As long as I stay calm and keep being nice to her, there shouldn't be any problem reeling her in further. That's the key to this whole thing. Remaining calm and acting nice._ _Yeah, it sucks that Bread Boy's after her but not much I can do about that unfortunately._

"Well, guess I better go," he said with a smile, and got up to leave. "Got history next. Wish I could stay and hang out a bit longer but Cray will kill me if I do that. See ya, Catnip."

She gave a little smile and said, "See ya. And try not to fall asleep, Gale. I know it's boring but at least try and stay awake. Just try and keep your eyes open for one hour. Just sixty minutes."

He laughed and called back to her, "Don't worry, I will."

"You've said that before and you dozed off halfway through class," she said while shaking her head.

"I know, I know," he said quickly. "But this'll be different. No sleeping this time. Promise."

"If you say so," was all Katniss could say, and she had to keep from smiling. She knew Gale couldn't stand history not even a bit, and staying awake for him was about the most difficult thing in the world.

"Really, I will!" he assured her. "Cray's not gonna catch me napping this time because I'm not gonna be tired."

 _No way am I dozing off when I gotta get planning_. _That Peeta thinks you're just gonna jump right into his arms?_ _I don't think so. That ain't gonna happen so long as I'm around. I know you love me, Katniss. Why you won't just accept that and admit it, I'll never know, but it doesn't matter. All that matters is that you're_ _gonna be mine_... _and you're gonna like it._

Katniss debated about whether or not to follow him, but she knew it was useless. When Gale was like this, the best and smartest thing to do was let him be and give him time to cool off, which could sometimes take a while. Yes, he'd calmed considerably and she figured he was probably alright now, but she still wasn't sure if his mind was cooled down completely. She'd seen Gale's outbreaks numerous times so she assumed it was just another one of those. She didn't have to question that he'd be jealous and envious of Peeta if she ever did admit to having feelings for him, but she knew in her heart that he'd ultimately accept it. Deep down past all the burning envy and spite, there'd be acceptance. Never would her best friend try and split them apart if she was truly happy with him.

 _He just cares about me_ , she thought, deep in her thoughts. _He just wouldn't want to see me get hurt or heartbroken but he doesn't have to worry about that. I still don't even know where my feelings stand about Peeta right now. It's too soon to tell so I doubt there'll be any relationship between us anytime soon, but...oh, I don't even know. I can't even think straight right now. Everything's just too confusing. Maybe all I need's a good night's sleep._

All the same, she couldn't help replay in her head what he'd said to her just minutes ago.

" _We've known each other for years. Don't you think it's time we took it further? Did more, acted more like a couple? Wouldn't you like that?"_

 _But I just don't feel that way_ , she thought, and her head was starting to ache. She picked up her phone and did nothing but stare at the screen as her mind went to a million different places. _Yes, I've known him since I was twelve, but I've never felt anything more than just friendship with him. I wondered if I ever would and even now I still don't...and I don't think I ever will_. _I just wish he could understand that. What's wrong with us just being friends?_

She browsed through her texts and quickly finding what she was looking for, opened it without hesitation. She didn't care that she'd been reading it over and over throughout the past hour. She felt like with each time she read it, her thoughts became just a little bit clearer and less fuzzy as if she was getting closer and closer to the answer she was looking for. She hoped this was the case, but she knew it wasn't for certain.

 _Hi. I know you might not want to talk to me right now, and I completely understand if you don't, but I'd really like to see you and talk to you about what happened earlier at lunch. Again, if you don't want to, I understand. I know what Rye said was a lot to take in and I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to see or talk to me right now. I can't imagine where your head's at with all of this but if mine's spinning, then I can't even think where yours is. But I have some things I do want to say to you. Do you want to meet after class by my locker? I promise not to keep you long. Please reply if you get a chance. Thanks._

There. She'd now officially read Peeta's text seven times and still wasn't a hundred percent on sure how she felt, what she wantedto feel and what she wanted to _do_ _._ She'd given it a lot of consideration, however, and had asked herself on and off if she should just meet with him. It would have been so simple just to go to his locker, speak with him and get the whole thing over with. But it was the end of the day and a lot had happened earlier and all she could think about was going home and crawling into bed...so that's what she did. She wondered if not going to talk to him would come across to him as a little unsympathetic? Would he think she was acting cold and uncaring? It wasn't that she was unsympathetic towards how he was feeling because she wasn't, but it had turned out to be much longer of a day than she'd expected.

If she didn't feel so tired and stressed, _would_ she have replied to Peeta's text? She wasn't entirely sure. Too many ideas and emotions were banging around inside her head and with them all jumbled up together, it was impossible to identify just what exactly she was feeling. Her head was in too many places to sort out just what she was feeling. But what she wanted to know was just what she was feeling. Was she scared at what Rye had told her, and all the possibilities of what it could mean. Curious as to what Peeta wanted to say to her, and more curious to what would happen from that day forward? Sorry that he had to endure such overwhelming embarrassment. Maybe even excited? She hadn't the slightest idea and it was driving her insane because all she wanted was to determine how she felt about this art-loving guy who'd ended up in the same art class as her.

By the time she reached her locker, Peeta was already gone.

Suddenly, as she stood there staring at his locker, she imagined him waiting there patiently for someone who wasn't going to show up. She could see and more than that, she could feel the patience in him as he'd stand here quietly waiting for her. He wouldn't think about leaving or giving up; he'd keep his feet planted firmly in place till she appeared. It was then that she was struck with a sense of... _disappointment_ _._ Not in Peeta, but in herself. She knew that if he'd been promised that she would agree to meet with him, then he'd have waited there all day if he had to. However long of a wait it would be, it would make no difference to him. She might have only known him for two, almost three weeks, but she had the feeling that she knew him enough to know that without a doubt, hands down...he would have waited for her.

 _He_ _would_ _, too_ , she thought, turning to head down the hall. As she slowly grew farther and farther away from his locker, Peeta's image kept coming to mind. She saw the embarrassment in his eyes when his brother had spilled all his deepest secrets and he was left all but humiliated. She heard the sincerity in his voice when she'd asked him if all that Rye had said was true, and Peeta had answered with a soft, genuine whisper of 'yes.' It had taken so much effort to say that one simple word and Katniss remembered the look of sheer nervousness on his face after he'd said it. She could still picture clear as day the sadness and loneliness on his face when she'd gotten out of her chair and left him, leaving him with the impression that she wanted nothing to do with Peeta Mellark anymore. She'd left him feeling alone and that soon enough, he'd be all but forgotten as if the time they'd so far spent together was no longer important to her.

It was when she'd left the school and was nearly home that she knew why that night was going to be a long and restless one – she had to give something some serious considering. Chances are she'd be up half the night pondering about it, but she had to. There was no escaping or running from the fact that she knew exactly what she had to do, and that was to figure out where her feelings for Peeta Mellark stood. She had to decide how she felt about him and what she saw him as. Was he a partner in her class who was tutoring her and in exchange for this, she was helping him in math? Was he a possible friend who she'd start spending more time with? Could he be the first boy in sixteen years that she'd ever consider letting into her life in the romantic sense? Or – and this would take the longest and most amount of time figuring out – was he a potential boyfriend?

 _This is gonna be a long night_ , was all she could think.


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

 **SEPTEMBER**

Gale's last class of the day was history and it couldn't have been going by any slower. Not being a fan of school in general, it was gruelling to have to sit there for a full hour and do nothing but listen to a teacher ramble on about people, places and things he just didn't care about. The fact that none of his friends were in his class made it all the more boring since he had not a single person to chat with. It was all such a waste of time to him. Sure, it might have been important to other people who had plans of furthering their education and advancing into college or university, but Gale knew that wasn't a life for him. Once he was done and out of high school, that was the end of the road for him. In his eyes, the last day of high school couldn't come fast enough.

"There are a variety of different people and cultures throughout District Twelve," Mr. Cray explained, while slowly making his way around the room. "Most of the oldest cultures of this District date back to several thousands of years. Obviously we can still see the importance of these civilizations, as it was because of these men and women that our society continues to thrive as effectively as it does today. It's the same with the other Districts. One only has to look into the history and background of its people to appreciate just how far those societies have come and how much they've grown as a nation. We of Camerick – the name given to our District by some of its earliest founding figures – are proud to say that we still value the visions of those before us. District Twelve, as you're probably all aware of, is notorious for its numerous legends. As such, this was the reason for Camerick having been chosen to represent our District because here in Panem, Camerick means legendary. And while not all legends in our region are believed to be true and still around to this day, nonetheless, there has been no denying the incredible nature of this part of Panem. It is not only people that define a District; one must look deeper into the very heart of a District and determine what about that region makes it stand out amongst all others. Here in Twelve, we aren't recognized for advanced technology, exciting entertainment or trendy fashions. What defines us are legends. By the end of the semester, we'll have covered most of these legends by starting with some of the earliest ones, and working our way down to the most recent. Today's class, we'll be examining—"

 _Yeah, not like anyone cares_ , thought Gale, and all he wanted was to drop his head on the desk and fall right to sleep. But he knew there wasn't a thing Cray hated more than catching students dozing off so no matter how badly he wanted sleep, now wasn't the time.

He was positive there wasn't a single class in the school he hated more than history and he felt just as positively that there wasn't a teacher he despised more than Mr. Cray. In his eyes, the man knew how to put on the most boring lecture possible and where other teachers like Mr. Odair actually did a fantastic job of making their classes engaging and fun, Mr. Cray was one of the teachers that just didn't care. As long as he said what he needed to say and notes were taken, then he could leave at the end of the day feeling satisfied enough.

 _God, I hate this_ , thought Gale furiously. It took everything in him not to slam both hands on the table out of total boredom and frustration. How he managed to stay in his seat at all without making a sound or getting up and leaving all together was beyond him. _What's the point of sitting in this stupid class when I'm not even gonna use any of this shit anyway? It's all such a waste! Why don't they just let us go do whatever the hell we want? Then again, I am sitting in this stupid class listening to this idiot ramble on about nothing, so I guess I shouldn't complain. I could get the hell out of here right now if I wanted. Oh, whatever. Might as well just stay and zone out. Least that way I can think about her...about Katniss_.

Most times that was all Gale spent the hours of his class doing anyway – daydreaming about Katniss. Because of this, he hardly got any of his work done and never got around to finishing anything for homework but that meant nothing to him. He wasn't one to care about his studies. There was only one important thing on his mind and that was Katniss. If not for the fact that she attended Madderson High, Gale most likely would have just forgotten about going to high school in the first place. Either that or he would have found a way to go to whatever school it was she was going to.

 _That bread boy_ , thought Gale, growing anxious. _I swear if he gets even close to her, he's gonna regret it. You lay one finger on her Mellark and you're gonna wish you'd never even loved her. Trust me on that. As long as she doesn't have feelings for him and he stays true to his word and backs off, then there's nothing to worry about. He'll stay off to the sides just like I asked and then once he's out of the picture, I can do whatever the hell it takes to make her mine._

Mr. Cray was now handing out three sheets of paper which he informed the class must be completed for homework if it wasn't finished by the end of class. Gale barely noticed him walking by, but the teacher didn't seem aware of the fact that Gale was focusing on anything buthistory. His mind was so far gone from reality that if Mr. Cray were to slam his hand on Gale's table, all he'd hear was a slight noise in the back of his mind and think it was nothing.

 _It's gonna work out fine_ , he thought to himself reassuringly. _That little creep will keep true to his word and stay the hell away from her and as long as he does that, then Katniss will be nobody's but mine_. _And if that_ _doesn't happen, well...then I'll have a lot of work to do to make sure it does happen. But what the hell? There's no way that little baker boy's gonna actually keep talking to her, not when he knows I can easily kick his ass. No, he'll just hide in a corner and completely forget about her and go off in search of some other girl. Good. Go do that, Mellark. Because this girl doesn't belong to you...she belongs to me. And you're gonna realize that real soon buddy. Just you wait._

While everyone else was busy getting started on their latest assignment, Gale couldn't be bothered with something he thought was so pathetic. All he cared about right then was getting Katniss to finally tell him face to face that she had feelings for him. If she could just admit to him that she loved him and that he was the guy she'd always wanted, then he'd be content. But until those words came out of her mouth, he'd be forever obsessing over how to get her to leap into his arms.

As he was sitting there with his eyes locked on the desk, he couldn't help but drift back to several years ago when he'd first met Katniss Everdeen. It had been a seemingly normal day in the woods, and that day was followed by many more and the two had become the closest of friends. The time they'd spent in the woods were times he treasured and kept close to him, and even closer to his heart. But there was also something else that was about to occur in the woods much later on in his life...and it was a spectacle that could be described as both haunting and extraordinary.

It was a warm fall afternoon when Gale had first wandered deep into the woods and met Katniss. He hadn't intended to come across anyone because not a lot of people went strolling about in these woods. He enjoyed this and loved the feeling of walking through the woods knowing he was the only person around. But the longer he went on hiking in the woods all by himself, the lonelier he was starting to feel. It had felt fun and exciting at first to think he had an entire woods to himself but after a while, it had gotten extremely boring and more than a bit irritating. What he wanted was to meet somebody. A person he could be friends with and wander the woods with day after day and not have to know the feeling of lonesomeness anymore.

It was late in the day on that fall afternoon when he'd unexpectedly stumbled across Katniss.

He'd been making his way deeper into the woods than he'd ever gone before. He usually didn't go this far but he was in the mood for a little adventure, so he continued trudging along. He leaped over running streams, climbed over enormous logs that had fallen to the ground, clambered up steep, rising hills and then descended down just as steep of hills. Most people that weren't used to the woods would have found such a journey gruelling and frustrating, what with all the fallen logs and rivers and rising slopes. But it was barely even a hurdle for Gale who'd practically been in the woods his entire life and thought of it as a second home. It was his one place of solitude where he could go and have all the privacy in the world he wanted without having to worry about constant interruptions.

He'd just reached the end of the woods and was approaching a tall maple tree whose leaves were the brightest shade of red he'd ever seen...when he stopped in his tracks. Up until then, he'd been wondering if he'd been hearing a voice and the closer he'd come to it, the more it began sounding like it belonged to that of a young girl. It was, and when his eyes fell on the maple tree and the person beneath it, it confirmed what he'd been questioning.

Singing was a young girl who was all but a stranger to Gale. He might not have known her, but he was struck with the strangest feeling that his ears had heard this voice before, though he knew that wasn't really the case.

Sitting under the tree with her back against the trunk was a girl who looked like an angel; all that was missing was a halo and wings. He stood where he was and stared in surprise and couldn't help notice how dark her hair was and how it was tied back in a perfect, yet simple braid. Her eyes were a color of grey that made him want to look much deeper into them and see just what he could find in those gorgeous eyes.

A few of the red leaves were slowly and gracefully falling towards her. They fell around her and when one landed right on her head, she didn't even notice. She was too busy gazing up at the puffy clouds that floated by while trying to point out as many pictures as she could, all while carrying on with her song.

"H-hi," said Gale nervously, wondering if he should interrupt her. _Probably should have let her see ya first, Hawthorne. Way to go and startle her._

The girl gave a surprised gasp and whipped around to see who was there. When she saw Gale, she calmed down slightly and gave a small, almost unnoticeable smile.

"Hi," she answered.

"You have a pretty voice," he complimented. _More like beautiful._

The girl didn't answer; she only responded with an imperceptible shrug as if she felt differently.

"How'd you learn to sing so well?" he said curiously.

"My father," she explained. "Ever since I was little, he'd sing songs to me and then one day he took me out in the woods to show me birds called Mockingjays. They loved singing back to him and then he told me to try, so I did and then they started singing to me too. So I guess I can sing because my dad could."

"Like father like daughter."

"Seems so."

"What's your name?" asked Gale, whose curiosity about this girl and her enchanting voice was only increasing.

"Katniss Everdeen," said the girl. "What's yours?"

"Gale," he said. "Gale Hawthorne."

"Nice to meet you, Gale," said Katniss, and held her hand out to shake. He took it, gave it a firm shake and gave her a big smile. He was a tad bit confused when she didn't gave him as big of a smile in return, and it crossed his mind that perhaps she hated to be bothered by strangers. But he didn't give it that much thought.

"Nice to meet you too, Catnip."

"That's not my name!" she pointed out, sounding a little annoyed. She gave him the tiniest of a glare that suggest she was indeed feeling a touch of annoyance. "It's Katniss, not Catnip."

His face turned a bright shade of red and he said in embarrassment, "Oh...sorry. I thought you said Catnip." _Catnip? Where'd you hear that anyway? She said Katniss, Hawthorne. She's not a cat! Does she look like she's got a tail and whiskers?_

"That's okay," she told him.

"Guess that would be a pretty weird name," he said chuckling, though he was taken aback by how she'd snapped at him. He confirmed it as being nothing but was curious as to whether or not this was a girl that could possibly end becoming a friend of his.

 _Don't be too quick to judge Hawthorne_ , he thought to himself. _Give it time and she might warm up to you. Either that or she'll want nothing to do with you._

"Yeah, that would," she agreed. "I don't know a lot of people with the name Catnip."

Gale chuckled again. Despite that he still hadn't managed to get a smile or laugh out of her, he was amused by their conversation and was feeling a bit inquisitive about this girl. He certainly couldn't recall a time where he'd ever felt this intrigued by a girl. Over the years, he'd spoken to plenty of girls and gotten to know them but not once had he been struck with such a sense of...interest.

"Neither do I," he threw in. _Definitely not like most girls I've met. I guess there's just something...different about her. Now let's see how far I can take this conversation._

"So how old are you, Katniss?" asked Gale inquisitively. "I mean, do you go to school around here?"

"I'm twelve," she told him. "I go to Saybrook Elementary. I think I'll be going to Sanford Junior High next year, since it's so close to home."

After another brief pause, she asked, "How about you?"

"Fourteen," said Gale. "I actually go to Sanford right now. It's an alright school. Not too many people though, so you pretty much know everyone. Word travels fast at that place."

"Did you go to Saybrook?"

"Yeah," was his answer. "I liked it there. Nice school."

"I like it too," said Katniss. She then asked, "Do you think I'd like Sanford?"

Gale nodded and said, "I'm sure you would. You think you'll go there once you're done at Saybrook?"

Katniss shrugged and said, "I don't know yet. There's another school I was thinking about, but it's a bit farther away. Sanford's closer, so I think I'll end up going there next year."

"Guess that means I'll see you there then," said Gale, and gave a small smile. "Who knows? Maybe we'll even be in some classes together."

"Maybe."

Gale smiled again and said, "Yeah, maybe. Guess we'll have to wait and see."

"Guess so," Katniss answered, and went back to gazing up at the clouds, which she'd been doing for the past thirty minutes. As Gale watched, he tried reading her expression to figure out whether he was nothing but annoying to her, or if she just simply didn't know what to say because she didn't know him. She was hard to read, however, and he wasn't entirely sure of what thoughts might be racing through her head.

 _I wonder what it would take to get a smile out of her?_ thought Gale while ensuring she wasn't aware of the fact that he was staring at her out of curiosity. _Joke with her maybe? Well, you seem like a mystery, Katniss. I'd like to maybe get to know you. But do you want to get to know me? Looks like I'll have to find that out for myself._

"Mind if I watch the clouds with you?"

Her only answer was to go on staring at the clouds, so Gale took this as a sign that she didn't mind having company. When he sat down beside her and leaned his back up against the tree, she only turned her head to give him a quick, casual glance before refocusing her attention to the sky. Gale met her gaze and then he too lifted his head to see what kind of pictures could be made out in the various clouds.

As to whether the two would become friends, Gale hadn't the slightest idea. From a first impression, he thought Katniss seemed like the quiet type but that could very well have been due to her knowing nothing about him. Or maybe she really was a girl of few words. Whatever the case, there was the tiniest voice inside him telling him not to get up and leave but instead, to remain sitting with his back against the tree and not wonder so much about whether a friendship was even possible.

But it was, and Gale soon found this out all too quickly.

A year later, Katniss finished sixth grade at Saybrook Elementary and was now entering seventh grade at Sanford. Gale was now in grade eight and it took him all but a few seconds to recognize her when the grey-eyed girl with the familiar braid was sitting at the back of his math class. Spotting her as he entered the room, he hesitated only briefly before deciding to go and talk to her. By the end of the week, the two had sat next to each other every day and in the days that followed, they continued sitting together in all the classes they shared.

It wasn't only school where they spent time together though.

From that point on, Gale and Katniss had met up every Sunday in those same woods, spending at least an hour just sitting by their maple tree talking abo ut whatever popped into their heads. They would talk about everything and anything and even when they didn't feel like speaking, they'd simply sit with their backs against a tree and stare up at the sky. Sometimes they'd even work on their homework while pointing out pictures in the clouds above. It made no difference what they decided to do when they ventured out into their familiar woods; they just liked the feeling of getting away and having some time to relax.

With each passing day, the two learned more about the other and soon found themselves growing closer as friends.

Gale learned how independent of a girl Katniss was and how she'd never been one to put too much concern into boys. Where most girls liked flirting with boys and doing what they could to earn their attention, Katniss was never one to care about such things. What she cared about was her little sister, Prim, and anyone could see how the two weren't just simply sisters – they were best friends. Gale discovered that the two shared the kind of bond that could only be described as unbreakable.

From Gale's perspective, he admired the kind of person Katniss was. She stood out from other girls and it made him feel grateful that he'd stumbled across her that day in the woods, because she was undoubtedly a rare and unique type. But she also had a stubborn side to her and more than once he'd find himself realizing that it didn't accomplish much to try and change her mind about things. When she had her mind made up and decided, there was no use in arguing.

It wasn't until they began sharing things about their personal lives that they realized how much they could relate to the other. Upon their first meeting, Gale or Katniss hadn't put much thought into it that meeting up every day in the woods would eventually lead to a budding friendship. Allowing themselves to share private bits about their own lives helped bring them even closer together and into a level of connection that neither had ever experienced.

"So...your father died too?" asked Katniss quietly. She'd just finished explaining how her father had been shot down in cold blood one night when he'd been on his way home. Though the tragic event had taken place a few months ago, it still felt terribly fresh in her head as if the horror of it all simply refused to wink out of sight. And she knew too well that she would never truly forget the tragedy of that ill-fated night.

Gale nodded and answered sombrely, "Yeah."

Katniss kept her eyes on him and debating about whether or not to ask, she went ahead and asked anyway.

"If...if you don't mind me asking...how did he die?"

"No, I don't mind," Gale told her, and took a breath before continuing. "Car accident. None of us saw it coming. Of course it was hard on me and my mother, but I was more worried about Rory and Vick. They were only seven when it happened, so they took it really hard. It was hard to explain everything to them, but I did what I could. Posy was only four, so she didn't really understand. But I still remember one night she woke up calling 'daddy' and then started crying when she didn't see him coming into her room and it was like she knew something was wrong. She didn't need someone to tell her what she could already see in all our eyes."

In a much quieter voice, he told her, "It doesn't matter what situation you're in. You can always tell what someone's thinking or going to say just with one look in their eyes. That's all it takes and then it's like you can hear the words without them even opening their mouth."

"It's hard not...not having him around," Katniss told him, and at once the image of her smiling father appeared too vividly in her head. He was a man that had smiled often and she could still see so clearly in her mind the kind of smile he'd worn almost constantly.

"I know," said Gale, understanding exactly what she meant. He too felt an undeniable sense of emptiness at no longer having his father in his life. "But we gotta be strong."

"I don't have a choice," said Katniss quietly and immediately began thinking of her sister. "I have to be strong for Prim." She paused for only a moment before adding just as quietly, "I'm all she has. If I'm not there for her, then who would be?"

Gale knew all too well what Katniss meant by this. Since the passing of her husband, Katniss's mother had turned inside out completely, and in the worst kind of way. Katniss knew she couldn't rely on her mother to ensure everything got done for herself and Prim, and it was then that Katniss realized she was the only person that could truly be there for her sister.

Gale nodded, and said, "That's like me. I gotta be there for Rory, Vick and Posy. Gotta try and be strong for them."

"We don't have a choice," Katniss repeated. "If we're not there for them, then who will be?"

Knowing the answer already to her question, Gale responded only by leaning his head back against the tree while shifting his gaze up to the sky.

It was only when he was watching the clouds float across the endless sky that Gale came to a realization.

Finally, he had found a friend to keep him company in the woods. He'd found someone to walk with, share laughs with and spend time with while discussing what subjects they liked best in school, and which ones were downright boring. Never did they run out of things to talk about, especially since it got to the point where they really didn't need to be discussing anything at all. The other's company was really what both of them enjoyed.

It was definitely a friendship neither had expected.

But Gale also hadn't expected how fond he would soon grow of this new friend. He had gone from viewing her as a close friend to someone he had an obvious weakness for. She was now a girl that made his knees go weak, made his heart beat three times faster and made him completely forget what he'd been going to say. There was no getting around the fact that she was a person that could pull at his heartstrings almost effortlessly. There was no use attempting to convince himself he was wrong because he knew what he wanted – and that was Katniss.

What he wanted more specifically though...was more with her.

The more time they spent together, the more he was starting to see her as more than just a friend to chat with, spend time with and walk in the woods with – he wanted more with her. Calling themselves friends was starting to feel old, as if it was a title that needed throwing to the curb. He felt it was about time they moved onto the next stage of their relationship. Stage one had been friendship but stage two was what he ultimately desired. It was what he wanted more than anything else.

And he knew the only way they would enter that stage was if he introduced a bit of romance.

But Katniss would always give him the same answer, and each time she told him it only felt ten times more frustrating. Each time he was met with that maddening response that was 'no', it was like he was struck with not only emotional pain, but physical as well. It was like the second the word escaped her mouth, it found its way into his heart and left a nasty, throbbing pain that he feared would never leave.

"No, Gale," she told him firmly. "You know I'm not interested in a relationship."

"But why?" he asked her stubbornly. "What do you have against being in a relationship?"

"Nothing," was her answer. "But I'm just not ready for one. I don't know if I'd ever be ready for something as big as that. It's a big commitment, Gale. I don't think you understand just how big it is."

"Yeah, but not when you're in love with the person," he argued, and took both her hands into his own. "I love you, Katniss. And I think you and I would be perfect together. I know you keep saying you don't want a relationship, but I think you'd like it...and I think you should it a chance. Give us a chance. You might be surprised. Instead of saying you're not ready for one, just let it happen and see where it goes from there. How do you know you wouldn't be happy if you're not willing to at least give it a chance?"

She shook her head, slipped her hands out of his and said, "Gale, I already told you I don'twant a relationship. Can you just please stop asking me about it?"

"You know I can't, Catnip," he told her with passion. _When are you ever gonna get that? How many times do I have to explain this?_ "I care too much about you. I'll never stop asking you for one. You know well enough that I don't mind being best friends with you but I'd be lying if I said I didn't hope for the day you'd want to hold me and kiss me and tell me you love me."

"I know, but can we not talk about it right now?" she asked, not looking him in the eye. "Can we just head back home?"

"I don't get it, Katniss," said Gale with confusion, and there was a touch of anger in his voice. "I know you feel something for me. I can sense it. Yeah, I know that sounds weird but it's true. Maybe you won't admit it, but I swear I can feel it."

"But I don't, Gale," she shot back firmly, finally looking him in the eye. "Maybe you think you can sense it, but you're wrong. There's nothing there."

"I don't believe that," he said calmly. _No way am I wrong._ _I see how you look at me. How you smile whenever you see me_ _enter a room. How you laugh at my jokes. Don't deny how you feel about me. Stop hiding from your feelings and just let them out._

"Well, you should," was all she said. The two held eye contact for the longest moment, until Gale had to look away and stare at anything else other than her steely gaze.

"I just don't get why you won't just admit that you—"

"Gale, stop!" said Katniss, her voice now close to a shout.

After an awkward silence that felt equally awkward for the both of them, she took a breath and said in a much calmer tone, "Can we please just go home now?"

There was a brief pause, and then Gale said quietly, "Fine." _Still no, huh? How much longer is it gonna take for you to realize what's right in front of you? It's all right there, Katniss. Everything you want is right there and why you can't see that is beyond me. I'm trying to help you, but you're not making this easy._

It wasn't until Gale returned home that it occurred to him how difficult of a challenge pulling Katniss into his grasp was proving to be. Little did he know how truly tricky of a task it would turn out to be.

For the next four years, Gale would consistently ask Katniss if her feelings for him had changed, but her answer would always come back as the same disappointing 'no.' But despite having been told 'no' as many times as he had, Gale never stopped trying and swore to himself that he'd just keep asking until the day when she'd finally agree to enter a relationship with him. It might take a while and he might get frustrated to the point where he'd wonder if it was all really worth it, but he'd suck it up and keep on waiting. It was all he could do. There was nothing else he could do to convince Katniss that he was the perfect and only guy for her. He was now eighteen and he'd spent four years of his life waiting and the most he could do was hope that he wouldn't have much longer of a wait till they were at last together.

 _If I could just have some...help_ , he thought angrily.

It was night-time, and he'd been sitting by the maple tree outside of the woods for what felt like hours, though he'd really only been there for an hour. He'd done nothing but stare up at the sky and wonder in anger why he couldn't just have Katniss to himself already. What he should have been doing was finishing the history assignments from earlier, but all he could obsess over was the fact that she was spending time with another guy and what he couldn't wrap his head around was the fact that it was a baker's son. All he could think was, _what the hell does that baker have that_ _I_ _don't_? _I'm smarter than him, funnier than him, better looking and pretty much superior in every way. Yet Katniss seems to think this blondy's got more going on than me._

He could hardly stand the thought of Katniss suddenly feeling something for a baker, and feeling nothing for a guy she'd known for years. It made no sense how she could feel so little for him and so much for a guy that she was just starting to get to know. It should have been the reverse but with how unfair and harsh reality was, it shouldn't have surprised him that this was the way things were. It was too frustrating of a thing to have to ponder about, so he shoved it out of his thoughts, and tried his best to focus on anything other than the possibility of Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark ending up together. The very image of that would have pushed straight him over the edge, so he didn't even bother consider the frightening chance of it actually happening.

 _I can't wait forever for her. I'll be eighty by the time she tells me she loves me. She's gotta tell me sooner._ _I just wish I wasn't alone. If I could just have a little help, someone to give me a hand...then maybe this whole thing might not be so goddam difficult_. _Just a little help's all I need, and I'll be good to go._

Just then, he could have sworn he'd seen the image of a hawk sailing overhead, but he quickly dismissed it as being nothing but his imagination and went back to closing his eyes. He was tired of dealing with the cruelty, harshness and unfairness of reality. For too long he'd been forced to endure so much impatience and he decided it was time to bring an end to that. Thinking and doing were two different battles though, and making that happen would have taken too much effort. He was drained of all thoughts and ideas and figured getting hit with even one more failure would have left him beaten. All he wanted was to block out all the anger and bitterness and think of a place where he and Katniss could be together. If all the negativity that had been consuming him lately could just vanish entirely, then life would be perfect.

 _Won't happen though_ , he thought angrily and shoved his hands into his pockets. _Not with Bread Boy around._

Glancing to his right, he looked down and saw a single rock sitting in the grass. He quickly grabbed hold of it and wrapped his fingers tightly around it and stayed like that for a solid minute. Turning his attention to one of the largest trees in the distance, he raised his arm and hurled the stone towards it with as much force as he could. For a few seconds the stone was sailing in the air and as Gale watched it speeding along, he watched it strike the bark of the tree, only to then drop to the ground while hardly making a sound.

His eyes never left the fallen rock. He simply sat with his back against the tree as if he couldn't look anywhere else but at the tiny stone that was now once more in the grass. Though he was unaware of it, a pair of eyes was watching him keenly and even if he'd turned around to see who was there, he would have seen nothing. The eyes that were so eagerly fixed on him weren't anywhere on the ground, nor were they somewhere deep in the thickets of the woods.

That was because they were high up in the branches of the trees, safely out of view and hidden completely.

 _Why can't things just be fair for once in my life? Just once can things actually work out for me? She's all I ever wanted and still I can't even have her. But someone like Peeta – a guy that bakes and pants and god knows what else – can manage to make her smile? I'm supposed be the one to make her smile. I'm the one she wants to be with every second of every day._

"She's never gonna get it!" he snarled to himself, and his voice sounded much deeper than he'd ever remembered. But with how annoyed and wound up he was feeling about everything, it didn't surprise him to hear his own voice changing into something of a growl. "Here I've always been there for her. Always! Yet now she's smiling about some other guy she's barely ever talked to! She'd pick a stranger over a guy who's been her best friend for years and that's supposed to make sense how?"

He shook his head and grumbled, "And just my luck it's all gonna get worse. He'll steal her heart, they'll get together and live happily ever after. A guy who's never even talked to her is gonna be the one to claim her as his? But here I've spent time with her and I'm gonna be ignored? He's the coward! He's the one that never said anything but here I've been friends with her and I get treated like I'm not even important! Who's been the one hiding all this time? Sure as hell wasn't me, yet that's how she's gonna treat me."

As he let the anger in his mind continue building, he found himself becoming restless and for whatever reason he just couldn't put his finger on it. Besides the fact that it was dark and the trees were nothing but tall, black figures that looked like ominous shadows, there was something else. Something more. He didn't exactly catch on to what it was at first but then when he saw them, he knew why he was starting to feel...a bit uncomfortable.

He was being watched.

A quick look around and he saw only the branches of the trees swaying lazily in the wind like they did every other night. There was no one out there, and there definitely wasn't a voice to be heard from any direction. There was no rustling coming from the shrubs and bushes, nor was there any sound of feet scampering on the ground. From what he heard, there was no person or animal or anything else lurking in the woods. But still, things seemed more than a little off.

"There's nobody out there, idiot," he muttered, and returned his focus to the moon shining in the sky.

But there was.

As he gazed up at the moon, he swore he saw the image of a hawk and even when he blinked, still the image hadn't left his eyes. It was only when he began looking harder that it finally winked out and once more he was staring up at the moon. Yet another time he thought he heard a deep, steady breathing coming from behind him but when he whipped his head around to see who or what was there...the same thing happened. If something or someone had indeed been there, they no longer were. When he closed his eyes, he caught sight of those same pair of eyes watching him intently and as he expected when he opened his own, nothing was there. The scene in front of him was exactly the same as it had been the moment he'd first arrived – the maple tree behind him, the countless bushes surrounding him, the grass under his feet and the growing darkness in the sky. When he looked high up and scanned each of the branches of the trees, still he couldn't point out the eyes that he knew for sure were watching him so attentively.

But he knew they were there. Not only did he know it, he felt it. Like an unsettling shiver creeping down his spine, he felt them. He might not have been able to spot them and prove they were a hundred percent there, but that didn't matter. What difference did it make when he could feel a chill crawling down his back? Of course it was there, and he knew that for certain. Time and time again he'd feel them fixed on him and it was the creepiest feeling to think that someone or something was watching him. Questions sprang into his mind – how long had they been there, why did they care to watch him at all and would they ever wink out of sight? It was creepy, but it was also frustrating in that he figured he was just going insane and imagining that someone or something was out there when there probably wasn't.

It wasn't till he shoved all that out of his head and went back to obsessing over Katniss that he was finally able to accept that he was seeing things. Besides, he felt it was far easier believing he'd just imagined the whole thing rather than discovering he was in fact being watched. The possibility of some person or thing skulking about in secret wasn't one he wanted to have to be forced to acknowledge.

"Just some help," he sighed irritably. Because he was so caught up in his sea of negativity, he wasn't even aware of the fact that he'd begun biting his lip. Soon, a single drop of blood had appeared and was now slowly dribbling down his chin. Even if Gale had taken a second to peer down at the grass beneath him, he wouldn't have noticed the bit of red that was now there because he was simply too infuriated at how unfair everything was for him. Nothing in the world seemed fair anymore...and it was driving him crazy. "That's all I need. Just some help, someone to get rid of that bastard and keep him away."

That was when he heard a single, foreign voice cut through the silence.

"I can help."

Gale's eyes opened instantly and when he turned to see who was there, all he saw was the familiar edge of the woods and the towering trees that seemed to reach up to the sky. He felt sure he'd heard a voice call out to him, yet there was nobody there. It was almost pitch black out, so it was hard to make out anything in between the trees but after a long, hard observation, he came up empty. He'd obviously been hearing things because as he glanced around for a solid minute, there wasn't a person in sight. He'd simply been hearing things. Just a trick of the mind was all it had been.

 _Nice Hawthorne_ , he thought, putting his head back against the rough trunk of the tree with a loud chuckle. _So now you're hearing things and imagining that people that aren't even there are talkin' to ya? Why don't you just calm down and focus on Katniss? I swear if Peeta's gonna go and try and—_

"You said you wanted help?"

There it was...again.

Gale jerked his head to the side and knew for sure that he'd heard a voice. He thought that his mind had been fooling with him but he knew that wasn't the case because the voice had spoken again. The fact that he'd heard it twice pretty much confirmed that. He looked harder this time and when he at last realized the truth, he wondered if he was actually dreaming. He'd never believed the statement, 'I thought I was dreaming' but as he sat there with his back against the tree while gazing off to his left toward the woods, he truly felt as if he'd left reality and had been sucked into a weird, unexplainable dream.

He had every reason to believe he was no longer amongst the ways of reality because staring him right in the eye was about the last thing in the world, dream or no dream, that he'd expect to see – and that was a hawk.

He'd seen the creature enough times to know that it was indeed a hawk, but this bird was slightly larger than that of an ordinary one. There was no mistaking the short, hooked beak, broad wings and curved talons that were ideal for ripping and shredding its prey into pieces. But unlike the common hawks he'd seen from time to time, this one's beak was much larger and thicker than any he'd ever seen. It was the same with its talons and wings; never had he seen such sharp talons or such massive wings that looked to belong to something that was far more enormous in size. Gale wasn't entirely sure of the color of the bird because it was so incredibly dark out, so it was pretty much impossible to perceive any spots or other notable features; he could hardly make out even its feathers. But if he had to guess from where he was sitting, he'd say the hawk was entirely black as if it were a creature that lived purely amongst the evening shadows. What stood out more than anything else though were its eyes. They were the darkest shade of black he'd ever seen and from where he sat, he could hardly tell its eyes apart from the rest of its body. Not only were they so dark that they looked to have been taken right out of the very night itself, but these were eyes that could reach far into the depths of one's own eyes and unveil any well-guarded secrets one might be hiding. All he could do as he sat there with his back pressed up against the tree was to stare at this startling, yet remarkable beast and question whether he was in the realm of reality or the strange, bizarre world of dreams where everything and anything was possible.

"Great," he muttered under his breath. "So now I'm fuckin' seeing things? What? So now giant birds can talk to me? Oh, great, what's next?" _Of all the things I could possibly see in a dream...this?_

He was greatly surprised when the hawk spoke once more but to Gale's shock, its mouth was remaining closed. He watched closely and realized that the creature's beak wasn't moving even the slightest and if that was true, then that meant only one thing and that was that this bird could talk without moving its mouth. How that was possible Gale hadn't a clue but it was eerily creepy in more ways than one. Seeing this only made Gale more convinced than ever that he was no doubt dreaming and sooner or later he'd wake up and burst out laughing at the ridiculous dream he'd been in. He'd awake to the realization that he'd been home for hours and not still out in the woods losing his mind and going mentally insane.

"Really?" he scoffed and his voice was dripping with sarcasm. "So birds can talk? Right..."

"You're wrong," came the correction. "I'm not speaking a word. I'm simply able to communicate with people in a way that sounds like that's the case when it's anything but. As to how this works, I'm not sure of that for it's a process I was never made aware of. All I know is that you can hear my thoughts and what I am thinking and so that translates to what you perceive as being speech."

Gale's only response was to go on staring at the new arrival with a blank and vacant stare. What else could he possibly do?

"You said you wanted help," the hawk called, and its voice was oddly hollow. It was like there was no true depth or tone to its voice, as if any emotion had been drained out of it completely. It was like a plain, simple voice that spoke when it needed to, but would speak no more than what was necessary. "I can provide you with that."

"Yeah?" scoffed Gale, and immediately started laughing. "Why don't I just wake up from this ludicrous dream first?" _Really though. Scream, spit on me, shake me...just get me out of this._

"This is no dream," was the hawk's cold response.

"Oh, really?" Gale challenged, giving the hawk a doubting glance. "Prove it then." _Why not make this whole lame-fest even crazier? Why don't the trees join in as well? And why stop there? How about the moon?_

If Gale would have known what would have happened next, he most likely would have reconsidered saying what he'd just said.

He didn't have enough time to react or even know what was happening though before he felt the sensation of three sharp talons tearing into his left shoulder. It felt like the skin was peeling right off his body as if it were nothing more than a layer of plastic and now the claws were slashing at the delicate muscles beneath. If not for the unbearable pain in his shoulder and the increasing thumping in his heart, he would have thought what was happening to him was similar to what occurred with snakes when they went through the process of shedding their skins. But this was no natural procedure because the pain he currently felt was far worse than what he could have suffered from even in the most alarming and disturbing nightmare. The pain was so excruciating and unlike anything he'd ever experienced that all he could do was scream out in agony as the curved claws continued deeper into his shoulder. With how effortlessly they sunk into his flesh, it was like his whole body was made of a single layer of tissue paper that was getting rapidly torn apart. By now, he feared they'd keep on tearing till they reached his heart which by that point was beating so rapidly that it wouldn't have surprised him if it pounded right out of his chest.

He was on the frightening verge of exploding anyway, so nothing would have shocked him at that point.

"Stop!" he shrieked, and clenched his teeth to try and ignore the pain, but there was no escaping it.

The hawk kept its claws in his shoulder for only a second longer before slowly, gradually removing them. It then returned to glaring at Gale with that same emotionless gaze that was impossible to read. Gale was both amazed and confused when he saw not a drop of blood was on the bird's talons and it only made the whole event seem that much more bizarre. Not only that, but the instant the hawk's claws were out of his shoulder, the pain had vanished completely as if it had never been there in the first place. He didn't feel like punching the ground or screaming out in agony because the torture he'd just felt had strangely come to an end. It only made the whole situation feel about as unrealistic as if he'd just grown a pair of wings and taken to the sky. Was he truly in reality? Or was he far off in the realm of dreams and what was happening to him only felt like reality?

"Now do you see this is no dream?" the hawk asked him, its eyes flashing.

"Then how come there's no bleeding?" asked Gale quickly. He was still trying to catch his breath after having his shoulder so aggressively slashed at. "Shouldn't there be blood and—"

"I can do what I please," said the hawk impassively. "I didn't want you to bleed so you didn't bleed. But know that I'm able to inflict pain upon you if that's what I wish. This is all but reality. Whether you choose to accept or refuse that is your choice entirely. I'm merely telling you what is."

"Whatever," Gale snarled in anger while keeping his hand cautiously behind his back. "What the hell do you want? And how can you even talk? Makes sense if it's a dream but hawks don't talk in real life! No animal does! They just don't! This is...this is just fuckin' ridiculous!"

"What if I told you I wasn't a common hawk?" it ominously declared, its tone still as calm as ever. "What if I told you I was in fact something...else?"

"And what would that be?" spat Gale. He then added with an amused chuckle, "Some kind of ghost?"

"No," the hawk replied flatly. "I'm not a hawk in the ordinary sense. What I'm called is a Donor. Some have called us Muttations, but more specifically, what I am is a Mind Donor."

"A Donor?" said Gale, and then burst out laughing and asked incredulously, "You're serious? What the heck's that even supposed to mean anyway? You give stuff to people?"

"It means I'm a creature that only a single person can see," the hawk told him, never averting its gaze from Gale's. Not once did it blink, turn its head and what was creepiest of all was that its breathing was so inaudible that it hardly seemed like the creature was breathing at all. Its chest rose and fell slowly, gently but it wasn't noticeable to see these gradual movements. Despite how close Gale was to it, still it barely seemed like it was inhaling and exhaling but he didn't care to put too much thought into it.

"So no one else can ever see you?" said Gale.

"No, not in the real sense," the hawk announced. "I'm invisible to all eyes except yours. You're the only person who'll ever see me in the flesh. To everyone else I'm all but nonexistent. They would never see, hear or know of my existence."

"How's that even possible?" Gale muttered under his breath. _Why the hell can't I just wake up from this dream already?_ _Hawks that talk? Donors? You gotta be kidding me._

He was starting to wonder if all the obsessing over seeing Katniss with Peeta was starting to make him go mad. Perhaps all the fretting and worrying about some other guy stepping into her life was proving too much for him to handle and as a result, he was quickly turning insane. Or worse, perhaps he'd already been sent over the edge and was now in the realm of the insane. If that were the case, it would have made perfect sense. It would have explained why he was hearing and witnessing things that anyone else would have deemed as downright impossible. Either that or he just wasn't willing to accept the truth that was staring him nowhere but straight in the face, and that was the unblinking eyes of a hawk known as a Donor.

"It's possible," was all the hawk told him.

"So Katniss or Peeta won't see you then?" Gale questioned. "They'll never be able to see you?"

"Depends," said the hawk evenly. "Are these people you're close with? Do you interact with them regularly? Or do you hardly speak with them?"

"One I'm close with," Gale explained, and then groused, "The other I'm not."

"They're an exception to the rules then," was the answer. "Whoever is involved or becomes impacted by the plan you wish to carry out, then they'll be able to see me. It's the common, ordinary person that will always believe me to be invisible. But if what you're going to do to achieve what you want is going to have an effect on both their lives...then that's when they'll see me, if I choose to make an appearance. But there shouldn't come a time for them to see me if your plan proves successful and you come out victorious."

"So no one in the world knows you exist?" asked Gale, wanting to clarify. "No one?"

"Nobody else in this entire world knows I exist," said the hawk. "Donors are only seen by one single person. As long as a person seeks help of some kind, then they might just be the ones to have the ability of seeing a Donor."

"And if somebody were to show up right now?"

"They'd see nothing and no one," was the outlandish reply. "They'd see neither you nor me."

Gale shook his head and muttered, "Ridiculous."

The hawk didn't respond. It only went on staring at Gale with absolutely no expression on its face while remaining still as stone.

"How the hell could they not see me?" he shouted. He was growing more frustrated at the fact that he hadn't yet been yanked out of this ludicrous dream. "I'm standing right here! So they don't see you, fine. How that makes sense, I don't even care. But they'd see me! I'm not invisible."All he wanted was to quit wasting his time in such an absurd and laughable dream. Why couldn't he have just been yanked out of it already and get back to reality?

"But you are," corrected the hawk, and went on to explain, "When one interacts with a Mind Donor, they develop a sort of invisibility, though only momentarily. The minute you and I stop speaking, however...the abnormal becomes normal once more. Whether you choose to believe this is your choice entirely. I'm simply telling you what is."

"And they wouldn't hear me?"

"Whether you'd be whispering or screaming, it wouldn't matter," was the reply. "Your voice would not be heard so long as I'm here. While I'm here, your voice becomes silent and your body unnoticed."

For a moment, neither of them spoke and all that could be heard was the slight, faint rustling of leaves in the trees.

The hawk then continued, "Donors are seen only by those who called to them. Surely you can figure the rest out. The fact that I'm a Donor and you're the only one who can see me must mean that—"

"I called for help," said Gale, and went on in confusion, "That still doesn't make any sense! Yeah, I called for help but what the hell's some bird with claws gonna do? Make the bad guy go away? Do a little screaming and then everything works itself out? How are you possibly gonna give me what I want?"

There was a short pause, before the hawk said with total conviction, "What if I told you I could give you exactly what you wanted and turn you into a person you could only dream of?"

"Uh, okay," laughed Gale sarcastically. "Sure. And I'm supposed to believe that some random bird can give me exactly what I want? Alright then. Sounds pretty damn sweet if the whole thing weren't so completely stupid! Okay, if you say you're as great as you say you are then answer this: what is it that I want?"

"Easy," the hawk said as if it were all but simple. "You want to claim the girl Katniss Everdeen as your own and shove the boy Peeta Mellark out of the picture by doing whatever it takes and going to whatever extremes need be to make that happen. That is what you want, is it not? My job is to find those who're lost, troubled and unsure of the path to come and help them achieve exactly what they want. If ever there was a time you were in need of help, now is that time. I can give you that."

Gale opened his mouth to answer, but found he'd gone completely speechless. Either this dream was the strangest he'd ever experienced or he truly was speaking with a hawk called a Donor and it knew just what it was he so desperately wanted. But how could this bird read his thoughts and desires so effortlessly? Was it a mind-reader? Could it see right into his soul? It didn't really matter to him because the result was the same and that was that this hawk knew about his love for Katniss and his hatred for Peeta. It knew how badly his love ran for Katniss, how he'd been crazy about her for years and how he despised the blond-haired, blue-eyed boy that was threatening to charm her, steal her heart and snatch her right out of his life.

"So you know how much I hate him then?" asked Gale.

"I do. And that's why I responded to your call for help. You want to get rid of Peeta Mellark and I can promise you right now that if you accept my help then Katniss Everdeen will be yours. You might not know it, but us Donors have been labelled as being legends and rumours for decades. No one ever believed such things to be real and so they went on believing they were all but fables made up by man. It wasn't long before they'd fully convinced themselves that Donors were all but a joke, and weren't even remotely real. If only they could have opened their minds just a little further and realized that we were anything but. What they settled on believing in terms of our existence...they were all but wrong about. We're as real as any living human and we've been living amongst them for endless years. They might have chosen to regard us as nothing but impractical and unfeasible, but if they only knew how oblivious they'd become to us. We not only survived and lived amongst them in secret; we thrived and have done so for hundreds of years, and will do so for hundreds more to come. Only a select have seen the truth and as I'm sure you've now guessed Hawthorne...you're one of those select few."

"So you're a...legend then?" said Gale, his head still swimming in confusion. _Sure, I think history's just one big load of crap but even I never heard Cray say anything about this. Maybe I just wasn't listening but I know he never said anything about Donors._

"I am," the hawk confirmed. "Along with every other existing Donor, and at one time, we Donors were the most famous of all legends, Mind Donors in particular. Mind you, we were the most incredible and far-fetched, but we received more commotion than any of the other existing legends. Nowadays, not as much discussion goes on about our incredulous nature. If you were to speak with anyone else, only a small portion of those people would even remember the term 'Mind Donor' while the others would give you only a look of bewilderment."

There was a brief pause, and then the creature went on.

"But Donors aren't the only living legends that make up this District. You're aware that each of the twelve Districts of Panem is classified as unique and distinct based on what that District is recognized for?"

Gale's only response was an imperceptible nod.

"Legends are what make up Twelve," the hawk told him factually. "Donors are only one of the many legends that people have spent time debating about. You might have heard about Avoxes, those who've had their tongues cut out and lose all ability to communicate with others? Or the lethal, deadly poison of Nightlock berries that can bring you death in a matter of seconds?"

Gale didn't doubt what the hawk was telling him; he recalled having been told of these legends at one time in his life. But there was still one nagging question he needed answered.

"But what can you do?" asked Gale sceptically. "If you're as awesome as you say you are, then how can you get Katniss and me together?" _Listen to myself. Asking some bird in the woods if it can help get Katniss to like me. No, Hawthorne. You're not crazy at all. Just on the brink of truly going insane by not ending this goddam dream already!_

"Not difficult," said the hawk with poise. "But you would have to be willing to accept something."

"Accept what?" said Gale suspiciously. "I don't care what the hell it is. All I care about is getting Katniss and keeping Peeta the fuck away. That's all I want." _You know what? Fine. I'll go along with it. Who cares? If it really is a dream, then who cares? I'll just wake up in the same stupid life that's mine anyway. If Feathers here thinks it can actually give me some help, then screw it. Just go along with it and see what happens._

"Then this shouldn't be a problem," the hawk assured him. "By accepting my help, you'll have to agree to change who you are at this very moment and transform into one of the other legends that have existed alongside Donors for just as many years."

"And that is?"


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

 **SEPTEMBER**

"A Donee," the hawk pronounced.

"Uh, mind explaining that a bit?" said Gale impatiently. _Another legend Cray never talked about. And of course it sounds just as lame and stupid as whatever the hell Donors are._ _Donors, Donees...what next?_

"A Donee is a result of what the Donor provides the person with," the hawk began. "As we're Mind Donors, you'd be receiving our mind. A Donee is born when a particular creature's behaviours and qualities are transferred to a human person. No, the passing on of these attributes does not happen physically. It all happens mentally and emotionally. It's all in one's head. Once the transfer is complete, the Donee will then find itself acting more like the Donor that had given help to them than its own human self. Where Donors are the creatures that respond to a call of help and provide one with the tools they need to achieve success, once they've answered that call of assistance, they can then transform that individual into something...rather abnormal."

"How abnormal?" asked Gale charily, watching the hawk guardedly.

"Abnormal enough," it told him straight out. "You'll no longer be a common human. Once a Donor has reached into your heart and left its mark, then you'll forever be changed into that of a Donee. The Donors are the creatures that offer the assistance but the Donee is the one that carries outthe work. I can offer you my help and let you think as I would think, but once you've become a Donee, you'll no longer need my help as much because you yourself will have the mind of a hawk. I am simply the Donor that provides, but you are the Donee. You are the one that receives what I have to offer – and that is a mind superior to your own."

"So basically what you're saying," said Gale, taking the hawk's words in. "Is that I'll start thinking like a...like a hawk?" He wanted to laugh at that last part because it sounded so ridiculously stupid, but he was so truly desperate at that point that he'd be willing to do just about whatever it was this creature said was required of him. As long as Katniss would become his and Peeta would be shoved out of her life with no chance of getting to know her and get involved with her romantically, then he could deal with whatever it was this hawk claimed had to be done.

"That's exactly it. Your mind will feel more alive than it's ever felt. Not only that, but once you're a Donee, you'll have the gift of driving Peeta Mellark insane _._ Tell me, would he not be concerned about you interfering with him and Katniss? Do you not think he's worried that she'll pick you over him and that such thoughts consume his mind almost constantly?"

"Yeah, probably," said Gale with a laugh. "The guy's a wuss, everyone knows that."

"And because of that," the hawk went on. "You'll be able to drive him mad by appearing to him as the hawk you'll be. No, you won't be a physical hawk but once you've driven Peeta Mellark crazy and his mind is not acting as it should, his eyes will start seeing things that make no sense at all to him. But don't think he'll believe what he's seeing is true, because he won't. Remember, Donors and Donees are all but legends. The most that boy will think is that he's over worrying about you and letting you drive him insane. Never will he stop to think that what you're actually doing is tormenting him in silence. That is the beauty of Donees. No ordinary person will even know you exist. You'll be going about your work as if you were all but a ghost."

"So what kind of things would he see then?" asked Gale quickly.

"You," said the hawk. "He'll start hallucinating andthinking you've changed into some monster from hell when really you haven't. He might think you're speaking out to him when you haven't even opened your mouth. It's all about driving him mad and thinking he's worrying far too much about you than necessary. The goal is to keep him unsteady and as long as he's tripping over his feet, then the better chance you'll have of stepping in and claiming Katniss Everdeen as yours. You'll soon find that living as a Donee will only increase what chance you have of eliminating the boy called Peeta Mellark and seizing Katniss Everdeen as your own."

"And that's supposed to help me get Katniss how?" he asked, still in doubt.

"Because you'll have the mind of a hawk," was the response. "You'll be smarter, quicker in thought and will have the same devious nature that so many of us possess. You yourself might not have what it takes to win her over but with the help of a Donor...it's more than possible. It's probable. Once you've been given a new mind, you'll never again have to worry about fear and doubt because Peeta Mellark will be the one living in fear and doubt. Why do you suppose so many individuals seek the guidance of a Donor? We're people's only hope for achieving success."

Gale didn't respond.

"Because they're the only ones who can help give them exactly what they want. Alone, one's efforts will fail but with the help of those who feel their yearning, then no longer would someone need to concern themselves with doubts and fears. It makes no difference how great one's efforts might prove to be. As we Donors have witnessed time and again, never will they be truly enough...and that's where we step in to give them a helping hand."

"So all I have to do is become a Donee then?" said Gale slowly. "And then Katniss will be mine? Simple as that?"

"No, things are never as simple as that," the hawk corrected. "Once you're a Donee, you won't simply be given Katniss Everdeen. Life isnever that easy and straightforward. You'll still have to do whatever you must to keep them apart but you'll have the mind to help you know just what to say, what to do and how to make it all happen. The few individuals who once agreed to become Donees wouldn't have done so if they had even the slightest of doubts that it would all be for nothing. And let me assure you that all previous Donees got exactly what they wanted in life and couldn't have lived a better and grander life...and it was all because they'd been given a smarter, more superior mind."

Gale rolled the hawk's words around in his head before asking, "Okay, few more questions."

The hawk didn't say anything. It just stood there patiently waiting for Gale to speak as if it had all the time in the world and could have remained there for hours, days or even months.

"I'm not gonna actually turn into a hawk am I?" asked Gale, and instantly started laughing at the very thought. "Because there's no way in hell I'd ever do that. Then any chances I've got of getting Katniss are so far gone it's not even funny." _Then again, it's only a dream. Nothing even matters. Don't even know why I'm still standing here._

"Donors aren't idiotic, Hawthorne," said the hawk sharply, its eyes growing ten times darker. "We know what you want and do you really think I'd offer you a chance at becoming a Donee if I thought it would lessen your chances of getting together with Katniss Everdeen? No. You won't be changing physically. Donees do not become the Donors that had first approached them. It's all mental. It's your mindset that will be transforming...mentally. Not only will you still have the thoughts of your own mind – of Gale Hawthorne – but you'll also encompass that of a hawk's thoughts, which will provide you with all the intelligence, slyness and cleverness that you could imagine. As a Donee, you'll find yourself thinking more and more like a hawk, and less and less like an average person. But if you want Katniss Everdeen as badly as you say you do, then accepting this transformation is the only guaranteed way of snatching her love and eliminating Peeta Mellark."

"What about other Donees?" he asked with a shrug. "Any way I'd be able to tell who is one or are they all invisible too?"

"You could," said the hawk. "But it's highly unlikely that one would actually reveal themselves as being a Donee. Most simply keep it secret, but there's every chance you'd run into others and it would be the same for them. As long as you kept your identity hidden, they'd never even think you yourself were a Donee. So yes, there are others around. Interactions amongst other Donees are common. As to how to find them, it's not exactly difficult. Just know this: you'll know when you've found one. Anything else?"

"Are there other Donors around?"

"Plenty," said the hawk. "Humans would be surprised to know just how many of us are secretly hiding in this world they claim to be only theirs. And while Mind Donors can only be seen by a select few, there are those that are visible to all. As far as I know, only three such Donors still exist: Tracker Jackers, Jabberjays and the most famous – mockingjays. They aren't like the rest of us Donors, in that they exist within nature but they aren't able to reach out and lend a hand to those in need like we can. Where Mind Donors are able to transfer one's mind to another, they cannot do such things. Tracker Jackers are Lethal Donors, as they inject and infect one with poisonous venom. Jabberjays are Afflicting Donors that impose great suffering onto others, and Mockingjays are Uplifting Donors that offer hope and faith to those in need of it."

"So people can see those Donors but not ones like you?"

"Yes, and how easy is it when people can see with their own eyes? Why believe something to be true when you can't see it? Where's the proof such a thing even exists? People believe what they can see, and only question what they can't. People believe only when they've been given proof. Because Mind Donors cannot be seen by all, where is the evidence that we're even real? That's what so many have spent years arguing about and now most have reached the point where they've simply decided that we're nothing but nonexistent. To them, we're just an idea that was thought up by man and nothing more."

Gale knew he could have asked an endless amount of questions, but time was ticking and time was never a factor that seemed to be on his side.

"So once I become a Donee," said Gale slowly. "Then that's it? There's no going back?"

"There's no going back," the hawk confirmed. "Once you've been changed by a Donor...you'll live out the rest of your days as a Donee. So think wisely about this, although there really isn't all that much to consider when you and I both know what it is you want. If you want the boy called Peeta Mellark out of Katniss's life, then becoming a Donee is your absolute best way of ensuring that that happens. If you want to get rid of him, you'll have to be smarter, quicker in thought and above all, a great deal sneakier. You'll be vicious, ruthless and completely relentless. As long as you've got the mind of a hawk in your head, then you've got nothing to worry about. What's a common mind like Peeta's got against that of a Donee? The answer is nothing. It is pitiful to compare a human to that of a Donee."

"So if I don't accept your help, then what happens?"

"Then you fail," was the immediate answer. "Your efforts alone will fall all but short. Your weakness will become your downfall, and you'll be unable to change that. You yourself will not be able to split these two apart and will only cause more harm and frustration for yourself. If you think your situation is hopeless and frustrating now then let me forewarn you...it will only get worse. Reject my proposal and this girl you're so infatuated with will only slide further out of your life. You'd have no way at getting her back and what then? In spite of what you may think and regardless of the extraordinary nature of my type, what I can offer you is your aspirations...guaranteed."

"And you know that, how?" asked Gale, raising a brow in distrust.

"See for yourself," said the hawk, and it was as if the creature were allowing Gale to see into the future.

In front of him was a transparent image of himself and Katniss but there was no signs at all that his friend was happy to see him. She had a blank look on her face and when she told him she no longer wanted to be friends with him, that was when he saw Peeta appear from behind her. He wrapped his arms around her and with a joyous smile, gave her a kiss on the top of her head. She turned and brought him closer to her and when Gale saw her bring her lips to Peeta's, it felt like termites were crawling into his flesh.

"W-what are you doing?" was all Gale could ask, and his mouth felt impossibly dry. Seeing her and Peeta together was the single, worst image he could have been faced with.

"You don't get it, Gale," said Katniss, not even glancing in his direction. Her eyes were on one person and one person only – and that was Peeta. "I told you time and again I wasn't interested in you but you still went on bugging me. Well, I can't put up with it anymore."

He couldn't respond. It was like the words were forming in his mouth, but he was having trouble getting them out. He needn't have worried about that though, because Katniss was about to make things all too clear for him. He might have been at a loss for words, but she wasn't.

"I don't want to see you anymore," she told him bluntly, pressing her forehead against Peeta's. She then ran her fingers slowly through his soft, blond hair while breathing in the familiar, sweet smell that was cinnamon. "I just can't stand how much you nag and bug me for a relationship. I told you to let it go, but you never did." She paused only briefly before adding with finality, "We're done Gale. Our friendship...it's over."

There it was.

For some time he'd wondered if things would ever come to this, but it was now official. What he'd feared might actually happen had just happened. It was no horrible nightmare that he would wake up from, and re-enter reality. It was cold, harsh reality and it was now staring him in the face. He wanted to shake his head in denial and convince himself he wasn't hearing right. He would have even liked to have argued that she wasn't in her right mind and that what she'd said, she hadn't meant.

But she had meant it. Though it stung and hurt to where it felt insufferable, she couldn't have made herself clearer if she'd spelled it out in words.

"No," he argued, refusing to believe what he was hearing. He couldn't and wouldn't accept this change of events. To spiral from being the closest of friends to no longer friends was a shift he wasn't about to allow. "It's not!"

"It is, Gale!" she snapped. She was still holding onto Peeta who had both arms wrapped securely around her. Like a protective blanket, he kept her safely enveloped in his loving arms which could have held onto her for as long as she needed. "I don't want to see you anymore. I told you to change and not be so angry about everything but you didn't. You just got worse and...and you're just not the same person anymore. You're not the friend I used to know and I really don't care to know you anymore. You're not the Gale I met back in the woods four years ago. I...I don't even know who you are and I don't care to see or hear from you ever again."

Gale's head was swimming and what was worse, he felt like he was drowning in the world's largest ocean. Just as he was repeating Katniss's words over in his head, he saw Peeta slowly turning his head to glance in his direction. He then gave the tiniest wink along with a victorious smirk and went back to nuzzling his head into his lover's neck. He knew perfectly well that Gale was no longer a threat to him and understanding this...it took everything in Gale not to lash out and beat him to a pulp. He would have gone and done just that if not for the fact that his body felt so drained of all its energy. He wasn't even sure if he'd have the strength to get his feet moving, let alone engage in a full on fight.

"You don't mean that," he said under his breath, and he'd spoken so quietly that neither Katniss nor Peeta had heard him. He knew it didn't matter if he'd hollered though because he wasn't important anymore. What was important was Katniss, Peeta and the painful reality that they'd given their heart to the other.

There was such a mixture of swarming emotions that he could hardly tell exactly what he was feeling. He knew there was hatred towards the guy holding Katniss in his arms while showering her with kisses that he knew should have been coming from him. There was jealously, in that he couldn't help wonder if Peeta had some well-guarded qualities that he shared only with Katniss, and kept them private to everyone else. There was an amount of sadness at knowing the girl he'd met four years ago and who he'd grown so close to was giving her heart to another guy.

Of the hatred, jealously and sadness, there was only one emotion that was screaming to make its way out of his head. It demanded to be let out so it could grab hold of the blond-haired, blue-eyed guy that had the girl he'd always dreamed of having. There was no keeping it locked up inside, not when the sheer power of it simply refused to stay hidden.

Gale knew what he was now experiencing. He wasn't a stranger to the feeling of it, but never had he felt it to this extreme before. Never had he known what it was like to have your entire body feel like it was on fire; never had he felt like his head would grow to five times its normal size; never had he felt his body go so rigid and stiff as if he'd been frozen in place.

Never had he felt such furious and rampant anger.

He had now officially been pushed over the edge.

"You asshole!" he howled, and his jaw was now clenched. With his nostrils flaring and eyes a darker grey than they'd ever been, he screamed all the fury inside him at the one person that had ruined every hope he'd ever have of getting together with Katniss Everdeen. "It's your fault she's like this! You tricked her into this! I don't know what you did or how you did it, but you did it and now I'll never get her back!"

With a final scream that drained all the remaining energy out of him, he shrieked, "You stole her from me!"

It wasn't till both Katniss and Peeta winked out of sight that Gale was brought back to reality. Through a mass of swirling, morphing colors, he was sucked out of the hellish torture.

Watching him with noticeable interest was the hawk and when he caught the unblinking eyes fixed on his own, he knew what the Donor was telling him could only be true. It was warning him that by attempting to break them apart himself, it would only end badly and the girl he loved would forever be out of his life. If he continued to nag and bug her about a relationship, then it would only result in their friendship going rapidly downhill, and there'd be no stopping it. Their friendship would be shattered like a broken vase and who else would be there to love and give her everything she wanted but the one person he loathed more than anyone else right then?

Peeta Mellark.

It would be Peeta who would pick up the broken pieces and put them effortlessly back together again. While Gale would be left on the sidelines to watch in defeat as the girl he loved leaped into the arms of another guy, Peeta would have it all. He'd have everything Gale ever wanted in his life.

Understanding this, he now realized what the hawk had meant when he'd warned him that his weakness would ultimately lead to his downfall. He now knew all too clearly what that weakness was.

It was his anger. Being unable to contain the constant anger that raged inside of him, it would be his own fault that he and Katniss's friendship would fall apart. The countless outbursts, shouting and explosions would become too tiresome for Katniss to have to put up with and the result? She'd want nothing more to do with the guy she'd met in the woods four years ago. Their friendship wouldn't have been worth holding onto, not if it meant having to put up with her friend's constant pleading.

Because of his inability to bottle up his fiery rage, Katniss would leave him and once gone, there'd be no chance of reversing what he himself had brought on.

"She left me," he said, barely above a whisper. _Left me for someone that bakes bread and paints pictures. Left someone like me for someone like that. Left her best friend for a guy she hardly knows. A stranger._

"She did."

"She wanted me out of her life," he said, and his voice sounded hollow and empty. _She only wanted him. She didn't care about me anymore because she had him, and what difference would it make if I was gone if she had him? I'm nothing and he's everything. He's perfect and I'm not._

"She did."

"I was right for her," he said, his voice hardly audible, though what he really wanted was to scream out all the anger inside him to the world. "And she couldn't even see that." _She's never seen that! Here I've spent forever telling her I'm perfect for her and that I can give her everything but she never listens._ _She'll never admit how she really feels...and I'm sick of her refusing to confess what she really feels._

"That is how we help those who call to us," the hawk declared. "We show them a future that fills them with dread and fear. We show them a vision that can become painful reality and promise them that without our guidance, there will be no stopping it from happening. It is only by showing one their greatest fears that they can accept they're in need of assistance. That they need one who can help them to conquer and tame their weakness."

As if the words had gone in one ear and out the other, Gale said under his breath, "She pushed me away. Shoved me out of her life for that...that freak!"

Before he had time to go on, he caught the hawk's eyes once more on him.

"But what you just witnessed is only part of the future," it reminded him. "Everything she told you is only an indication of what will arise if you continue to act as you've done for so long now. It hasn't yet happened, which means you can prevent it from occurring in the first place; you can have total control over that. You can ensure this is a future that will never be. But to ensure this happens, you must be given the tools that will help you to suppress your anger."

That was when he refocused his attention back on the hawk's proposal. If what it was telling him was true, then becoming a Donee would be the only sure way that he'd be able to eliminate Peeta and at the same time, bring Katniss into his clutches. The idea of her finally becoming his was all too appealing and in a sense, too good to be true. But he had to ensure that whatever it was he'd be doing to split them apart, it would promise him Peeta's total, utter surrender and Katniss's undying affection.

"And you can give me your word that whatever I do to keep them apart," said Gale cautiously. "It'll be nothing but successful?" _If it's only a dream, why the hell do I even care? Nothing's gonna happen! You're just gonna wake up and realize Peeta's still gonna get his arms around Katniss and there's nothing you're gonna be able to do to change that. Guess I really am desperate if I gotta start wishing that dreams were reality. Too bad none of this can be real..._

"Of course," said the Donor with a confident air. "The mind of a hawk is a brilliant tool. Never do we lose our train of thought or wonder what next to do. We'll always know what needs to be done or what our next great plan of action is. Hawks have no time to sit and ponder about things like humans so commonly do. We're always on the go and always planning our next move and that is exactly what you'll be granted with. If one plan fails, you'll simply come up with another. And if that plan fails, then you'll come up with another, and another...and you'll come up with enough plans until one of them has finally given you exactly what you want. It doesn't matter if some plans prove unsuccessful because once you're thinking like a hawk you won't have time to wonder about it long because you'll already be creating the next great scheme. You'll simply keep on going till you've at last gotten rid of Peeta Mellark and by then, Katniss Everdeen will be yours and yours only."

"So there's no other way to make her mine then?"

"There is no other way," the Donor affirmed. "But be pleased to know that by accepting my offer, the life you presently live will be wiped out to make way for a life filled with eternal bliss. Gone will be all the anger, unfairness and impatience you've had to endure up till now. In its place will be the only thing you've ever craved."

"I like the sound of that," said Gale, and a greedy, ravenous smile was forming on his lips. _If you won't come to me, Catnip, fine. I've got other ways to make that happen. You don't have to come to me if you're blinded by what you think you feel for Bread Boy. No problem. I'll just come to you._

"I'd be surprised if you didn't," said the hawk in understanding. "This girl is everything you want and everything you need. All that's standing in your way is a boy named Peeta Mellark. But what threat is someone like him against a Donees? He won't have the intelligence that you'll have, nor will he think as quickly as you, nor will he be as clever and devious. He will be nothingcompared to what you will be."

It was then that yet another question entered Gale's mind and he couldn't let it go, so he asked the hawk, "So once I'm a Donees, where'll you be? Will I still be able to see and talk to you? Or do you just go hide and never come out again?"

"Something like that," the hawk responded. "Once a Donor has completed its transformation in changing a human into a Donees, we have no further reason to speak with you. Remember, we're transferring our mindset to yours so the fact that you're sharing our thoughts is in a way, the same as my own self becoming a part of yours _._ "

"So there's no way then for me to talk to you again?" asked Gale, confused. "What happens? You just disappear forever?"

"Not necessarily forever," said the hawk. "There is one exception with Donors and Donees in terms of a Donor reappearing."

"And that is?"

"If a Donee fails to succeed in its goal," was the hawk's answer. "The only chance you'd ever have of seeing or hearing from me again would be if you failed to win Katniss Everdeen over. If you do succeed, however, and you're able to shove Peeta Mellark into the dirt, then never again will you see or hear from me because my mind will forever be with yours. It's only if a Donee fails to achieve what they want that a Donor will make its reappearance. Our reason for returning is simple. If you aren't able to attain what you want, then we ensure you never recall what it was you desired. For you, that would be stealing Katniss Everdeen's heart. You'd never remember ever having been in love with her, nor would you remember ever having spoken with me, and setting out to make her yours. You'd still retain the mind your Donor granted you with, but you'd be losing your memories. But so far that's something that has never transpired, since all Donees that have been created thus far have all thrived with ease. And I've no doubt you'll thrive just as smoothly and if I'm correct, then you've no worries of losing your memories."

"Perfect," said Gale, who was still wearing a ravenous smile. "Then how's this work? What do I have to do?"

"First you must give me your word that becoming a Donee is exactly what you want," the hawk explained to him. "That becoming a Donee is what you desire. You must promise me that this transformation is absolutely what you desire to be given and that you want nothing else. That nothing else in the world matters but altering your mind to make it superior to the one you yourself possess."

"It is!" snapped Gale in irritation. "I already told you. I want that loser out of her life! I don't even give a shit what it takes to make that happen. Don't even care! I just want her to be mine!"

"And she will be," the hawk said, staring right into Gale's furious eyes with eerie calmness. "But I need you to promise me that this is what you want. I am a Donor, but you must agree to become my Donee. You must give me that promise."

"I promise!" snarled Gale. "I don't care. Just do whatever you have to to make this happen! Do whatever you have to! Just promise me that Mellark will get what he deserves!"

"So you promise then?" asked the hawk, calmer and more patient than ever. "Becoming a Donee is exactly what you want? You want the mind of a hawk? The cleverness? The intelligence? The ability to think quickly and precisely and know just what words should come out of your mouth? To be devious and sly like you yourself could never be? And to be able to control and restrain your anger which to you, is your greatest weakness in winning her over?"

"Yes!" Gale screamed in fury, and the burning fire in his eyes was only increasing. "Just make a Donee, or whatever the hell it is you call it! And if it's a dream, then it doesn't even matter! My life won't change and Peeta will still make Katniss his. I'd rather it not be a dream but what can I do? Dreams are dreams...not reality."

"This is no dream," said the hawk and though Gale wasn't aware of it, a truly disturbing grin had crept onto the Donor's face. "Maybe you can't bring yourself to believe what's happening is real because of how implausible it all seems and how too good to be true it all feels but let me reassure you—" and here the grin on the hawk's face grew even larger, "It's all too real."

"Then get it done!" came the impatient demand.

That was all the convincing the hawk needed.

Slowly and methodically, it crept its way up to Gale where it stared him down with an intense, unwavering glare that held nothing but immeasurable power. Right then, Gale couldn't have cared less what this creature had to do to him in order to change him into a Donee. All he wanted was for Peeta Mellark to suffer and to never go near his Katniss again. He wanted Peeta to hurt both physically and emotionally and feel actual pain. He wanted him to feel hopeless, broken and useless. He wanted him to feel like all hope was lost and that he and Katniss would never be destined to be together and instead, it would be she and Gale Hawthorne that would forever be lost in their everlasting love.

 _I swear you're gonna regret this, Mellark_ , he thought, and was already looking forward to the moment when Katniss would be in his arms and Peeta Mellark would be nowhere in sight. That would be the glorious point in time where Peeta would no longer be a serious threat but instead, would be like a worthless, everyday bug crawling about in the dirt; he would be tiny, unnoticed and unimportant. He would be all but a horrid memory that would never again have to be spoken of. _You're gonna wish you_ —

But suddenly, Gale was hit with the most unbearable pain he'd ever felt in his life – and that was the feeling of a pair of sharp, curved talons driving themselves into his chest and grabbing hold of his beating heart. It was hard to describe just exactly what it felt like because it was a combination of sensations: shock, a consistent sharp, throbbing pain and the sound of his pounding heart that was about two seconds away from getting ripped out of his chest. But the absolute worst – worse than the initial shock of it all, the throbbing pain and the feeling that needles were jabbing at every square inch of his chest – was the torture getting inflicted onto his heart. There were no words that could truly describe what it was like to have one's heart getting pulled and tugged at so harshly. The hazy, unclear fog that consumed his mind and was leaving him dazed, the sudden weakness he felt from head to toe that told him his body was going limp and the talons that felt more like knives was all too much for anyone to cope with. In all, for those few seconds where he was forced to fight against the claws, he was starting to wonder whether death might in fact be a better place to be in than reality. At least then he would escape the torment that felt like hell.

"S-STOP!" he howled, at once taken aback by the sound of his own frightened voice. "It's too—" but it was like an invisible hand had clamped over his mouth. He hadn't expected his voice to sound so eerie. It was a voice that belonged to one who'd seen ghosts and so many horrific sights that it left them in a state of permanent fear. As he listened to it echo and travel amidst the trees in the words, he swore he was hearing the voice of one who'd endured a lifetime of terrors. But this voice belonged to no one but himself.

His pleading was ignored and to his dismay, the hawk's claws kept on tugging. It was like they were now latched onto his beating heart and refused to remove even a single talon, as if that might allow its target a chance at fleeing.

"There is **NO** stopping!" it screeched harshly and in a far louder scream, went on, "You're now my Donee and as such, I plan on granting...your...request!"

Instantaneously, its piercing voice reached all the way up to the darkened sky where the sound of rumbling thunder could be heard that was all but deafening. It seemed to shake the ground out of its roots, and that was followed rapidly by the sight of flashing lightning that lit up the shadowy sky. Flashes and streaks of blinding white swallowed up the vastness of the skies. Though it was late in the evening, the sky itself had grown three times darker and was now filled of shadows that suggested that some wicked doings were about to occur. Whether it was all truly happening or if it was unfolding only in his mind, he hadn't the slightest clue. All he knew was that some unexplainable occurrence was taking himself and the world around him by force.

Though Gale wasn't aware of it, the pounding thunder and brilliant streaks of light that seemed to split the sky in two were events that were hinting at the coming of an even more furious storm. It wouldn't have crossed his mind that a more rampant, powerful and out of control storm would soon make its appearance and take everyone by surprise. But despite the deafening sounds occurring around him, the only thing on Gale's mind was the killer claws of the hawk and the ripping, shredding pain his heart was experiencing.

That...and the unspeakable chaos occurring in his head.

From every direction and so loud he feared his ears might erupt came a number of sounds that all clashed and mingled together in no particular manner. He couldn't recall which sounds came in what order and what sounds were louder and clearer than others. All he knew was that some great commotion was unfolding and all he could do was absorb each sound as it came and drive himself mad by wondering what it could all possibly mean, or if it held any meaning at all.

First came the screaming. It started faintly but then began increasing and became so loud it felt like the world itself was spinning. It was a mixture of screams that seemed to be coming from a great number of people. But it was only one person's scream that proved louder than the rest and went on without end. Soon, every other scream faded to nothing but that one individual scream refused to go silent. It simply howled on and on without end.

Then came the laughter. There was so much shouting and hollering that it was near impossible to make out any words that might have been spoken. All that could be heard was the echoing laughing and the longer Gale went on absorbing the sounds, the more he wondered as to what could possibly be so funny as to cause so much hilarity. He wasn't given the time to stand there and ponder about it though because the noise was coming to an end. Just as quickly, something else was beginning.

Finally, came the loudest and most powerful of all the sounds he'd been struck with – and that was the unmistakable sound of someone's sobbing. Such an incredible amount of pain and grief was soon flooding his ears and all he could assume was that someone somewhere...had been hit with unspeakable sorrow. There was only one word that could describe the bawling he was hearing and that was endless. The sobbing was endless and by the sounds of it, he guessed it would persist and go on without ever stopping.

Once the screaming, laughter and sobbing vanished from his mind, he was met with an eerie silence. At this time, he swore he'd been transported to some other dimension because nothing around him made even a bit of sense. How was this possible? What did it mean? Had he already gone fully insane? Or was he still a helpless prisoner in his own baffling dream?

Looking to the maple tree just a few feet in front of him, he noticed it was no longer a tree that was covered in leaves. What was now dripping from the number of branches was fresh, wet blood that was leaving the ground soaked in small, red puddles. So many pools of the reddish liquid now covered the sodden ground and joining them were multiple others. Gone were the leaves that he'd looked upon so many times before; they were now drops of thick, putrid blood. With each new pond that formed on the ground, he feared they would merge together to become one monstrous wave. He expected the mountain of blood to then rise to a frightening height, only to then crash back down with tremendous force while he fought to keep from drowning. To be engulfed by such a colossal wave would have shaken every bone in his body.

It was when his eyes fell once more on the ground beneath his feet that he felt like the breath had been knocked right out of his lungs. The spectacle was just too impractical and purely impossible in every sense. Under his feet, he saw droplets of blood shifting and even when he'd blinked in doubt, he saw them moving. Slowly and unhurriedly they moved, but there was movement just the same. Unable to look anywhere else but from the unfolding scene, he followed their trail and saw they were heading for the tree that was now bleeding heavily. Blood oozed and seeped from each of its branches and after plunging to the ground, they swiftly merged with the adjoining drops. One by one they joined in unison and to Gale's horror, the image that soon appeared in front of him seemed to have leaped straight out of his flustered head.

There had to be a trick. What now loomed opposite him couldn't be real. It had to have been snatched from one of his thoughts? And how couldn't it have been when the evidence was staring him square in the face – a staggering, twenty-foot tall wave made purely of blood.

He was staring at a monster. The extreme weight of it would smother him; the soaring height of it would leave him gasping and desperate for air and the sheer look of it sent his knees buckling. There wasn't even a chance he'd survive if he and this colossal wave came face to face. Either he'd get knocked out from the impact alone, he'd crash into the tree or –and he feared this more than anything else – he'd die a slow and painful death by drowning.

He hoped it wouldn't come to this. But what he hadn't expected was that this immense, mammoth of a wave had a mind of its own.

With overwhelming speed, the force of the wave rose to an even greater height and without pausing for even a moment...began its plunge. For a split second, it seemed to linger in the air but this lasted only briefly and when Gale reopened his eyes, he saw the terror descending. Even if he'd been able to will his legs to start running, he would have felt powerless. The odds of him outrunning a thing of such intimidating size would have proven exceedingly slim, pathetic even. He was an ant – puny and small – compared to this imposing giant and never would he have stood a chance at escaping its clutches.

It was almost upon him. As it moaned and continued its rapid decline, Gale stood petrified as the mass of blood grew closer towards him. With no means of protection, he was completely defenceless against whatever it was this horror would unleash onto him. When the moment of impact was just seconds away, he thought he saw a pair of outstretched arms reach out to seize hold of him.

With nothing else to do, he closed his eyes, took a breath...and braced himself to be swallowed up by this rampaging wave.

The first thought he had was how surprisingly warm and thick the blood felt to his skin. It wasn't what he'd been expecting, but he hadn't any time to think, do or say anything else. He was now surrounded by an endless sea of blood and in every direction, all he could make out was the dark, murky red. Wherever he looked he was met with the same frightening sight. When he lifted his head to catch a glimpse of the sky, he no longer saw the familiar twilight that had casted the woods in evening darkness. Now in its place was a burgundy sky where the moon was a fiery orange and the clouds the color of blood, mirroring that of the rampant ocean below.

He was swimming in a sea that was hell.

The force of the blood was sending him down. He knew the hands of the clock were still ticking away and in less than minutes, he'd sink to the bottom of this blood-filled sea. He was struggling to keep the air in his lungs and not suffocate but he was fighting a losing battle. No matter of thrashing would keep his head above the deep, bottomless ocean. No flailing of his arms, calling for help or positioning himself onto his back would do him any good...because he was a prisoner in this hellish realm. The louder and longer he screamed, the more pointless it felt. Who would have heard his futile calls for help anyway? Aside from the hawk whose claws were still latched onto his heart, he was alone and vulnerable in this never-ending sea that stretched on forever.

In a rising panic, he shrieked, "Somebody help!" Who did he expect to show up and drag him out of this endless ocean though? There wasn't a person in sight. He double-checked all directions to confirm he was indeed the only unfortunate soul out in this rising, chaotic sea. It was the worst imaginable sight for one to be met with while stranded out in the vastness of an out of control sea.

Against the pounding waves, he strained to make out some other sound. A voice. A call. Anything at all. Just one other sound would reveal to him that he wasn't alone, and wouldn't have to endure this hell on his own. Minutes passed and still he was just as alone as he'd been when he'd first been thrust into this untamed sea. It was a disturbing thought to think when the time came, he'd be alone when crushed and swallowed up by this massive expanse of blood.

But then out of the blue...he heard a voice. One single, obvious word.

"Help!"

"Who's there?" he hollered, desperate to locate where it was coming from. He couldn't tell where the poor victim might be at, as he couldn't see over the swelling waves. All he could do was listen and calculate where they were likely at in this beast of a sea.

"Help me!" The voice was now louder and more distinct.

"I hear you!" called Gale, hoping they'd hear his voice over the groaning of the crashing waves. "Just tell me where you're at!"

"Please help me!" they screamed hysterically. "Get me out of here before it—"

"Tell me where you're at!" screamed Gale, checking in all directions to spot this frightened person. "I'll come to you! Just tell me where you're—" but his head was suddenly forced under. Being below the surface was even more unnerving than being up top with the vicious waves. Underneath the burgundy sky and sea of blood was boundless, infinite darkness. Shadows lurked in every corner and wherever he looked, he was met with that same terrifying sight – blackness. Worse, he could still make out the petrified screams of the person above though he still couldn't recognize whether it was a man, woman or even a child.

When he returned to the surface, he took in a few deep breaths to refill his aching lungs. Immediately, he returned his focus to identifying where the call for help was coming from but he was no closer to discovering their location. If only he could determine where they were at, then he'd use what bit of strength remained in him to swim on over to them. Somehow, he'd manage to overcome the brutality of the waves and find a way to keep both them and himself from going down.

There was something he wasn't expecting though. Truth be told, he and this other stranded person weren't the only two caught up in this hellish sea.

Joining the first voice...was another.

"Get me out of here!" came a chilling scream.

"W-where are you?" Gale shouted, his mind racing. Just then, a particularly brutal wave crashed down upon him but when he came back to the surface, he went on shouting, "Tell me where you are so I can—"

"Is anybody there?" hollered a voice. It was a third voice and by now, Gale felt there'd be no chance in saving all of these people. Just like him, they'd be left to this ocean of blood that would hammer them and throw them around like worthless dolls.

"Just tell me where you are!" screamed Gale, his voice louder and more frantic than ever. "I'll swim to you! You gotta let me know where you're—" but he was cut off abruptly by a fourth voice. Like the others, it was just as frantic and alarmed.

"Please help!"

Gale ignored the pounding in his head and yelled in response, "I can't see you! Tell me where you're at! Are you close to me? I can't find you if you don't—"

While he thought there were only four others present, he was immediately proven wrong.

"I can't see anything!" came the fifth and final voice, screaming to the tops of their lungs. "Can someone get me out of here?"

"I'll swim to you!" cried Gale, hoping they'd realize help was trying to find them. "What direction are you in?"

"Just get me out of here!" the five of them yelled, their voices reaching his ears and sounding painfully loud. He feared they'd get so loud that his ears would burst and he'd be left deaf and with no sense of hearing.

Even if he'd decided to make an attempt to try and find them, it would have been useless. The roughness of the waves was only worsening and it was now harder than ever to keep himself afloat. All he could do was remain where he was, continue his struggle and listen helplessly as the screams of these unknown people rang in his ears. Louder and harsher they grew as they bounced around in his head and it was the same everywhere else – their petrified howls was all he could hear. It was nothing but torture. To have no way in reaching them and knowing they'd soon be smothered was truly disturbing. He found himself shivering but not because the air had grown icily cold – but because he was unable to save them from an agonizing death. Somewhere inside him, he couldn't help but think that if he'd be able to find them and get them to safety, they might stand a chance. He knew he shouldn't have blamed himself for what they were facing but all the same, he felt a weight of guilt landing on his shoulders as if it were completely to blame.

As to how long their screaming went on, Gale wasn't sure. It could have been seconds, minutes, hours or even days. Time felt all too confusing right then but what made all too much sense was the frightening realization that people were dying. The howling in fear and desperate calls reached out to him, but there was no way to answer their constant pleads. On and on they went on screaming till their shrieks made the crashing waves sound almost inaudible. Still he couldn't determine who the voices might have belonged but what he knew for sure was they were terribly scared. He tried covering his ears to block out their anguished cries but that only seemed to intensify all he was hearing.

After what felt like a painful lifetime, their screaming at last came to an end. One final wave rose to its maximum height, only to then plunge down and swallow them up. None of them stood even a chance against the rough, powerful waters that grabbed hold of them. A single minute was all it took for the ocean of blood to torment them all and as Gale had feared...the five of them drowned. All that was left behind for him to remember them by was their chilling screams.

With the five identified victims now gone and out of sight, the roughness of the sea seemed to be growing. Waves grew to double their previous heights, the depth of the sea reached down even farther and the whole expanse of blood itself looked like it was still growing in size. Only one thought crossed Gale's mind and that was that he would become this hell's next victim.

What made no sense to him was how nothing around them was having any affect on the hawk. Where he went on sputtering and coughing each time he resurfaced, the hawk remained perfectly calm. While he went on waving his arms about and kicking his legs to try and stay afloat, the hawk wasn't even bothered by the violent sea. Noticing this, it dawned on him that although he was fully capable of suffocating from this uncontrollable sea of blood, the Donor wasn't. Considering that it hadn't once taken to the sky to avoid a likely death, it probably didn't have any fears of meeting death. If that was true, then it meant these wild, uncontainable waves were there for the sole purpose of battering him senseless. As for the Donor still clutching firmly onto his beating heart, it was merely there for the ride.

The sight of the rising swells of blood around him made him almost forget that a pair of razor talons were still driving into his flesh. He'd been so preoccupied with avoiding getting hammered by the crashing waves that he was just remembering there was far more to be worried about. Not only was the agonizing pain of those claws still painful as ever, but the force of the turbulent blood striking him from all angles was hastily taking its toll on him. Each time he got pulled under, the throbbing in his head and the numbness in his shaken body intensified. He wasn't sure how much more he could take, but he knew he was losing his strength.

There was no doubt in his mind if these powerful waves didn't subside...he'd be a goner.

Much to his relief, the chaotic behaviour of the sea did eventually pacify. The rolling, untamed waves settled down, the strong winds grew calm and the thumping in Gale's heart died down as well. A glance to the sky showed him the moon was once more a shining white, and the redness was fading and returning was the previous darkness. It seemed as if everything around him – all the incredulous things he'd just been shown – was winking out of existence. But what refused to vanish was the bleeding tree in front of him. That, and the persistent hush. What he expected to hear was some bloodcurdling scream that would shatter the silence, but he was extremely relieved to hear no such sound. After having heard enough deafening screams already, he figured his ears deserved a much-needed break. One more scream and he feared his head would erupt from the piercing commotion.

It felt relieving to hear such perfect silence but it stayed there for the shortest time. As if it had never even been there, Gale was again hit with a pounding of sounds but unlike before, there was no telling what he was possibly hearing. It was all random, muddled and hectic. It was impossible to differentiate between one sound and the next and one voice from another because they all sounded the same. Though the ferocity of the sea was no more, that didn't mean everything else would be leaving. All he could wonder was how much longer the madness would last. Would there be no end to it? Would he be forever trapped in this unexplainable place? Was it only beginning? Would his body come to rest at the bottom of the murky ocean?

Those questions weren't important though. He knew he wouldn't be getting any answers but instead, would continue to be haunted with these relentless screams that came from everywhere and nowhere.

Whatever it was this creature was doing, there was absolutely no stopping it now. That much he was certain of. The wheels had been set into motion and to wherever they were heading, he was a passenger that was well on his way. There was no turning back or revering a process that was all but irreversible. Gale Hawthorne was officially locked in the process of becoming what he'd so desperately wanted and needed to become in order to win the heart of Katniss Everdeen – and that was a Donee.

The process took only seconds but all the while, Gale couldn't make sense of how the hawk had been able to drive its leg into his chest and grab hold of his heart without causing him death. If this truly was reality, then wouldn't his heart have given out already? Wouldn't his body have given out and surrendered itself to the hellish waves? Where his lungs should have busted from a lack of oxygen, they hadn't. Weirdest of all, he should have been dead...but he was alive and breathing. He was, but he should have been dead after having been struck and pummelled so harshly by the aggressive sea. That was what he thought but then he remembered that Donors weren't normal creatures but rather, were anything but normal. They could pull off unexplainable things that no ordinary person could ever have an answer to. They could pull off the impossible and not a single person could question it because it was all part of what they were and the inexplicable things they could do. It was all part of the legend that made up Donors and now Gale was experiencing firsthand what it felt like to go from being an everyday person to a newborn Donee with the mind and attitude of a hawk itself.

Already he was feeling a change.

It felt like a million thoughts were racing through his mind and all were fighting to grab his attention. He saw brilliant flashes of light that came and went in no particular pattern. Swirls of colors drifted across his field of vision, appearing only for the briefest of seconds. He felt the presence of intelligence, and that was immediately followed by slyness, cleverness, boldness, viciousness and a sense of unmistakable hunger. But mixed in with that hunger was evident greed. Not only that, but he was struck with feelings of longing, desperation, power and endless craving, though he wasn't craving food or water like most normally would. His craving went far beyond that. He was suddenly thinking like a predator and there was only one victim that would be given the title as his unfortunate prey – and that was none other than Peeta Mellark. There wasn't a single, other person around that posed the kind of threat that Peeta did and to Gale, they were all like flies on a wall that were of no importance to him.

Best of all, he felt more than able to restrain his burning rage. It didn't matter that he still felt the anger spreading inside him because he was no longer a victim to it. He was now in control and because of that, there wasn't the least chance the fire would escape him. It would remain locked up and forever out of Katniss's sight because he was now calling the shots.

While he stood there imagining the glorious future that would in time be his, the hawk watched him for only a moment longer. It took in the sparkle of hunger and greed in Gale's eyes, and the arrogant smile that he now wore so plainly on his face. Because Gale was too caught up in his own selfish fantasies, however, he'd practically forgotten the Donor was still there with its eyes fixed on him. He was so engrossed in his own fantasy that he wasn't even noticing the scene around him. The now calm, subsided sea was getting sucked into an invisible gap. Inch by inch, the mass of blood poured into this hidden opening till finally, the ground had returned to its original state. Not a single drop of the blood remained, nor were the leaves of the maple tree still dripping with the red, oozing liquid. Gone was the ocean of blood, the bleeding tree, echoing screams, fiery moon and burgundy-colored sky.

The woods were normal again, but still Gale wasn't aware of this. He'd been too focused on envisioning the perfection that was himself and Katniss and how truly perfect it was because Peeta was nowhere in the picture. He was even past the point of questioning how all that had just taken place – the talons that tore at his chest and grasped his heart, the mind boggling wave of blood that had froze him in place and the rampant sea – had been even possible. He also wasn't concerned as to why he'd encountered such things because the fact that he hadn't been killed meant something. His mind was elsewhere and didn't care to keep pondering about what was now in the past.

As for the hawk, it had all but one last thing to say to its Donee.

"You've already taken the first step – telling Peeta Mellark to back off and keep away from her. But don't get discouraged if that fails. You think like a hawk now. So if this plan falls short, you get right back up and come up with an even better plan. You've got everything, Hawthorne – the brains, the slyness, the viciousness, the brutality and the quick thinking – now all you've got to do is put what you now possess into action. Don't take these elements for granted because without them, you'll never get what you've always wanted. Use them wisely and everything else will fall right into place. What's more, you should be pleased to know that Peeta's dreams are now about to get invaded by nightmares. While your dreams will be comforting, his will be nothing of the sort. Your dreams will be of you and Katniss together and nowhere will Peeta be in sight. As for him, hardly a night will go by where his dreams won't become realms of hell and pits of despair and as time goes on, these hells will only worsen and there'll be nothing he can do to prevent them from continuing. The attacks will be harsh and inexorable. You can be reassured that his eyes will be met with the most horrid and frightening things he could ever encounter. He will see, hear, feel and sense things that will terrify him and leave his body feeling frozen and dead. Will he know who's responsible for shoving him into these hells? No. He'll be aware of only what's occurring around him, not who's in control and calling the shots. Not once will he stop to think that best friend of Katniss is in fact plotting to split them apart and more important, it'll never cross his mind the extremes you'll be willing to go to in order to make that happen. He'll be oblivious and ignorant to what's unfolding around him and there'll be nothing to help him discover the cause for these nightmares. He'll never suspect that what's actually happening is that you're turning his dreams into living hells. You're invading his life and by doing so, are poisoning his dreams and ensuring that his nights continue to be times of torture and torment. The odds are ever in your favour Hawthorne. Now it's time for you to make your move. But don't forget...you've got one chance to make this happen."

But Gale was so obsessed with the fantasies now showing in his mind that when he turned around, he saw the hawk was nowhere to be seen. It was gone and had silently crept back into the night without making even a single sound. He scanned the sky briefly but all that could be seen were clouds drifting slowly by. He searched the branches of the trees but couldn't make out the image of the hawk perched there and that was because it had returned to lurking in the shadows of the night.

There was no reason for him to remain standing in those woods any longer. It was getting late, growing darker by the minute and the only place he wanted to be right then was in bed. So with one last look up at the sky, he started his way for home and in twenty minutes, was under the covers and felt more content then he'd ever recalled feeling. Whether his mind truly had gone through some unexplainable transformation, he still wasn't sure of.

All he knew was that he felt incredibly alive, and more alive than he'd ever felt even as a child. It was a feeling he wanted to relish in and not let go wasted, but there was no fear of that happening. The energy and ambition he currently felt would stay with him for the rest of his life. Not a day would go by where he wouldn't be visited by this same, welcoming feeling and he looked forward to this.

It wasn't till Gale was out of bed later that night and standing in front of the square mirror above his dresser that he was now convinced that what had happened earlier in the woods wasn't a dream. What he'd seen, heard and said to the hawk had been no trick of his mind, nor had it been a hallucination of some kind. Every word that had come out of both his and the hawk's mouth had been real and as he stared at the mirror in front of him, he knew there was no doubting anymore about what the Donor had explained to him.

He was no longer staring at Gale Hawthorne.

What his eyes were seeing was the image of a hawk but it wasn't the creature itself that took him aback. It was the realization that this monster was himself that took him by surprise. His lips had been replaced by a snapping beak; his smooth legs had morphed into long scaly ones with sharp, razor talons; his eyes had gone from grey to a dark, unsettling black that stared right into his soul and his arms had vanished to become huge feathered wings. He was indeed a monster and a creature from hell that could wreck havoc upon whoever and whatever it pleased, but he already knew who his unlucky victim would be and that was Peeta Mellark. As he allowed his mind to fast forward ahead to the torture and torment he could afflict upon him, he grinned at himself but he was no longer staring at the giant hawk. He was once more staring at Gale. The image of the hawk had lasted for only a few brief seconds but it was enough to convince him of one important thing.

The transformation that had taken place just hours ago had proven successful and he was now part of the legend that so many ignored or thought ridiculous. He himself had believed it to be implausible but he couldn't think that anymore, not after what he'd just recently experienced. There was no denying or questioning what he had become hours ago near the woods under the maple tree that he and Katniss so often sat under with nothing but the blackness of the sky above him.

There was no doubting what he now was – and that was a Donee.

Just then, he heard a pleasant, familiar voice whispering in his ear. It was faint at first but was growing louder and the words he soon heard couldn't have sounded any more perfect. They were the words he'd waited four incredibly long years for, and he was now hearing them. Though she wasn't here in the flesh actually telling him this, he knew why he was hearing her. Now that he had his mind focused on what needed to be done, he was getting a precious glimpse into the future. And while that moment in time might not arrive for some while, he was willing to wait. For now, he was just thrilled at knowing when all was said and done and he'd finished his work, he'd be hearing those words from Katniss herself.

The words she murmured in his ear were: " _I'm sorry it took so long to see how I really felt. I know you've been waiting for years hoping this would happen, and I'm surprised it took me this long to realize my own feelings. I thought Peeta was the one I loved but now I know that's not the case. I spent so long thinking it was him and there'd never be anyone else, but it was like I was blind. I forgot I had a best friend in my life who's always cared about me and would do anything for me. I can't believe I never saw that sooner but I see it now and I'm just glad I'm not hiding anymore. I'm done hiding my feelings and trying to convince myself it's not real because it is. I've always loved you but I was stubborn and tried telling myself I just didn't feel that way…but I did. I did always love you Gale. It just took forever to realize it."_

Gale smiled to himself and chuckled, "Can't wait to hear it for real."

Turning his head and glancing out his window, he noticed the sky was darker than usual. Any other time, one would expect to catch sight of drifting clouds and branches of trees swaying in the wind; these were all sights that made up an ordinary night. But these were sights that could no longer be seen. That was because the sky had grown so eerily dark that it seemed likely hardly anything was out there. All that was visible to his watching eyes was blackness but the longer he went on staring, the more he was starting to make out faint, but obvious streaks of light. They were vague and distant at first, but then quickly grew in intensity and soon, the entire sky was becoming invaded by these blinding flashes of white.

When he reached the window to look out for a closer inspection, he knew what it was. It was only just beginning but the feeling in his gut and the voice in his head were all signs that confirmed what he already knew would soon make its emergence. Already he could make out the sounds that would wipe out the silence of the night –rumbling, howling, crashing and pounding. It would only be a short period of time till the stillness would be shaken and then vanquished, clearing the way for a thing that held nothing but ferocity.

Knowing this, he felt a sense of comfort growing inside him that felt all too calming. Without realizing it, he soon found himself grinning out of relief and excitement while fixing his eyes on the disrupted sky. From this night on, nothing would be the same. Everything would change and what once was would be no more. The natural order would get disrupted and for the first time, the life that was Gale's would soon turn upside down, leaving him with the life that for four long years, he'd waited so impatiently for.

Too long he'd been waiting for it but now at last...that incredible life would soon be his.

Only a single thought was forming in his mind and that was: _you're in for it now, Bread Boy._


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER 13**

 **SEPTEMBER**

The first person to greet Katniss when she got home was her twelve-year-old sister, Prim. She was always home an hour earlier than Katniss who was usually home by at least three or a little after. The walking distance from their house to Saybrook Elementary and Madderson High were about the same and since their schedules both began at the same hour in the morning, they'd always walk to school together and both loved the other's company. She wasn't the least bit surprised to be greeted by her sister because for years now she would arrive home and walk in to see her sister trotting down the stairs with a smile on her face, and would then be asked how her day had been. The odd time, she'd even catch sight of Buttercup trailing behind Prim but she knew he was more interested in following his beloved friend than stopping to give her a 'welcome home' meow or a quick rub against the leg. Most times she'd never get her leg rubbed because the cat's mind was purely on its owner and not the owner's less interesting sister.

As for her mother, she'd leave the kitchen, yard or living room as well to greet her daughter, but never would she appear as talkative or cheery as she'd once been at one point in her life. Katniss would expect to see what she'd seen for years now and that was her mother attempting to give as big a smile as she could and to speak more than just a few simple words. She was rarely ever able to offer a smile that showed real, genuine joy or relaxation, but that didn't mean she ever stopped trying, no matter difficult it felt. Most times her mother would just give her a simple 'Hi, Katniss. How was school today?' and that was exactly what she said to her when she stepped through the door. Katniss never expected to get much more than that from her mother. Since the death of her husband, she'd been turned inside out and the strong, joyous woman her daughters had once known had vanished completely. It was like the person she'd once been was no longer alive and had been both physically and emotionally destroyed. She'd lost weight, seemed less lively and presented herself as quiet and withdrawn and people that knew her well no longer saw her as the same person.

No one could argue that she was a drastically changed woman, but that didn't stop her from doing all she could for her daughters, even if every day felt truly painful without her departed husband. Above all, no matter how different she'd grown over the years, she still loved her two daughters more than anything and somehow found a way to get through the constant pain to be there for them.

"Hi, Katniss," said her mother quietly. She'd just left the kitchen where she was preparing a homemade stew to come out and greet her oldest daughter.

"Hi, Mom," said Katniss. After hanging up her leather coat, she turned back to face her mother, but didn't expect their conversation lasting more than a few minutes. Day after day, it was always the same and that was with a greeting, discussion of both of their days and what was for supper. Rarely did the two ever engage in speaking about more in-depth topics and that was simply because Mrs. Everdeen wasn't as outgoing and talkative as she'd previously been.

"How was your day?" she asked.

"Alright," said Katniss with a shrug. "I'm getting a bit better with art, so that's good. History's boring and math's been great."

"Well, that's good," her mother responded, giving her a smile. "Maybe you'll do better in art than you think."

"Maybe," said Katniss. She paused momentarily, and then asked, "So how was your day? Anything interesting happening at Cordakin? Any new residents or updates?"

Since she was twenty, Mrs. Everdeen had been a continuing care assistant at the long-term care facility known as Cordakin Home. It was an old, but relaxing and beautiful place that held sixty residents, most of whom were coping with multiple chronic illnesses, conditions and late-stage dementias. For years, she'd provided them with everyday care and whether she was helping a woman get dressed for the day or assisting a man with his freshly-made breakfast, the care they received was continuously appreciated. She knew this was true when she'd be given a small, simple smile or even a silent nod of thanks. Even when residents didn't speak out directly with a 'thank you', the way they looked at her was enough for her to understand they felt grateful for all she did for them.

Katniss knew that despite her mother's rapid decline after the death of her husband, she still had a passion for caring for others and it showed daily in her interaction with the clients at Cordakin. Though she was far quieter than she'd been at one point in her life, she still had a special, natural way of communicating with her patients. The way she helped put them at ease, lessen their stress and leave them with smiles on their faces, anyone could see she was an effective communicator. She might not have been as strong of a person as she'd once been, but that didn't mean she was unable to provide nursing and care for those in need of it.

"No, nothing new's come up," her mother answered, reflecting back on how her day had gone. "Other than the residents on floor two requesting longer hours for sleeping, everything's been normal. Kayla's been thinking of creating a new philosophy and so far, all the patients seem to in favour of it. She's requesting to have permission to allow pets and children into the facility. One of the women told me she'd love to see kids running around and puppies chasing their tails. The poor woman lost her husband just a year ago and her son when he was only twenty. She tells me all the time how lonely she is and how not many people come in to visit her. They still need to discuss it and it might be a while before anything happens, but they seem eager about it."

"That seems like a good idea," Katniss commented. "They'd probably love the company, and that woman would probably love the children and pets. But I can't see a cat like Buttercup finding enjoyment in getting patted by so many people. The only person he likes getting fondled by is Prim."

Mrs. Everdeen gave a small smile and said in agreement, "No, I doubt letting him visit would be the best idea."

Katniss nodded and said, "So your day was okay then?"

Her mother ran the words over briefly in her head and responded softly, "Yes...it was okay. Not much different than any other day, but it was fine."

"And you're fine?"

"As fine as any other day," came the expected reply that contained a trace of permanent sadness. So many times Katniss had heard that. Not too often would she walk through those doors to hear, "Had a better day than usual," or "Today wasn't too bad of a day," or, "Hadn't had this good of a day in a while."

"That's good to hear," said Katniss, dropping her gaze to the floor. What else could she say to this? Hearing her mother was fine certainly didn't raise any red flags for her, though she wished her mother could be given happier days, even if it was only once in a while.

Her mother watched her for only a moment longer before declaring, "I better get back to supper. Shouldn't be too much longer. We should be ready to eat by six."

"Alright," said Katniss.

As her mother turned and headed back for the kitchen, down the stairs came her little sister. As always, she heard the unmistakable sound of her footsteps and that, of course, was accompanied by the sound of a familiar mew. Seeing Prim and her beloved companion racing down the steps to greet her after a long day was an image Katniss looked forward to seeing day after day. Even the longest, most tiring and frustrating days would be wiped away the second she saw Prim's beaming smile and even Buttercup's tail flickering from side to side.

"Hey, Katniss," said Prim excitedly.

"Hey Little Duck," said Katniss, giving her sister one of her usual hugs.

Since they were kids, Katniss had always called Prim 'Little Duck' and still did to that day. The nickname had popped into her head one day when the two had walked down to the lake to do what most referred to as 'duck watching.' It was one of the funniest, most memorable times she'd spent with Prim and it always got a smile on her face whenever she stopped to reflect back on it.

While the two were sitting and staring out at the calm water and the many ducks, Katniss noticed one duck in particular that was far smaller than the rest. It looked more like a tiny kitten than a duck and she couldn't help but laugh at the sight of it. Where so many of the ducks were equal in size, this little fellow stood out so much that it would have been impossible not to have noticed.

She instantly thought of Prim and told her sister, "That one looks kind of like you. How about I start calling you Little Duck?"

"Okay," she piped, then pointed out one of the other ducks. This one — unlike the tiny one that Katniss had spotted — was much larger in size and gave Prim an idea. She tugged on Katniss's arm, showed her the duck she'd seen and gave her the adorable grin Katniss so loved about her sister. It was a grin she saw not too often, but saw it all the time during Christmas, Easter and on birthdays.

"See that one?" asked Prim. "What was it you said? Oh, yeah! That one looks kind of like you. How about I start calling _you_ Bigger Duck?"

"Sounds good," said Katniss, and laughed at the exchange. "You'll be Little Duck and I'll be Bigger Duck. I bet we're the only two sisters around with ducks for nicknames."

"Probably," Prim giggled.

"Now if I just had a pair of wings, some feathers and a beak," said Katniss thoughtfully, staring out at the families of ducks with the tiniest grin. "I'd jump in and join them."

"Me too," laughed Prim. "But we're not ducks."

"No, we're not."

"But that doesn't mean we can't pretend we're ducks," said Prim. As clearly and loudly as she could, she called out a 'quack' to the ducks passing by. She watched them eagerly, hoping they'd stop to glance over at her and much to her delight, they did. One of the ducklings turned its head and gave her a curious expression, quacked back in reply but then quickly hurried after his siblings and mother.

"You make a pretty great duck, Little Duck," Katniss praised while clapping her hands.

Prim gave a dramatic bow, giggled and said, "Thanks."

"You sure that's not your family out there?" asked Katniss, pointing to the ducks that were now almost at the opposite end of the lake.

Prim shrugged and said with a smile, "Who knows? Maybe they are!"

It was a memory Katniss always loved revisiting. It was one that never failed to make her laugh and smile knowing they'd gotten the names from doing something as normal as watching ducks. She and Prim had done a lot of fun and entertaining things over the years, but that was without a doubt the mostamusing thing they'd ever done.

"How was school?" asked Prim cheerily. "Do anything fun or exciting?"

"It was good," said Katniss. "No homework, which I'm happy about. Every other night I'm loaded with homework but I got lucky today. How about you?"

"Mine was good," she answered, but then gave a small frown and said disappointedly, "But _I_ 've got some homework.

"Aw, bummer," said Katniss. "What subject?"

"English," said Prim. "We have a reading log due in three days. I have to start it tonight."

"Shouldn't be a problem for you," smiled Katniss, giving her a friendly nudge in the shoulder. "You're an expert with that kind of stuff."

"I wish I was an expert," was her answer, then she added, "Those things are hard! And our teacher's a hard marker, so she likes us to write long and detailed ones. She said she doesn't want us writing them too short because she wants us to really focus on details. She says to think hard about what you're writing and ask yourself if what you're writing is what you want to say."

"Still though," said Katniss with a smile. "I've read most of your logs so far and they're pretty good. You'll be able to write up another one easy, no problem."

"Thanks, Kat," said Prim. "I guess I'm just confused with what to write about. I'm running out of ideas."

"How about ducks?" Katniss grinned jokingly. "You know a lot about them, seeing as you made friends with them back when we were little."

"I can't write about ducks, Katniss!" she laughed. "But that would be funny. I bet I'd be the only one in the class to write about them."

"Probably," said Katniss, amused. "Just wait till you get to high school though. All the calculus, physics and chemistry you're gonna have to—"

"Don't scare me about all that yet, Katniss!" Prim exclaimed. "I haven't even gotten to junior high yet."

"I'm not trying to scare you," Katniss said with a chuckle. "Just letting you know that if you want to become a Vet someday, you're gonna need all those classes."

"I know," said Prim. "But I don't want to worry about that for a long, long time. Who knows if I'll even be able to do all those classes! They sound really hard, from what I've been told."

"Well, they do sound hard," Katniss admitted. "But they won't be a problem for you. You love animals so much that nothing will stop you from getting your dream career."

"And Buttercup can help me too," Prim joked. "I bet he'd be an expert at all that calculus, chemistry and physics stuff!"

With a final grin, Katniss started up the stairs to head to her room with Prim following behind. She wanted to put her bag away and spend however look it took to reach some kind of decision on how she felt about the text she'd gotten from Peeta and most importantly...what she'd been told from Rye regarding Peeta's past and all the secrets he'd kept hidden for eleven long years. Saying it was a lot to think about was an understatement. She knew finding those feelings wasn't going to be easy and judging by how she'd been thinking all day, she might just be up half the night. She was never the kind of person that liked staying up late because it only made her tired and evencrankier the next morning, so she hoped it wouldn't take too long. She especially didn't enjoy staying up too late on school nights, because she'd seen how tired some were as a result of pulling off all nighters and most ended up dozing off in class. That was never something you wanted to happen, not when you had teachers like Ms. Coin or Mr. Boggs. Show up yawning and resting your head on the table and you'd just get locked up in detention for the hour where any unfinished work was expected to get finished.

When she dropped her bag in the corner of her room and made sure to take her phone out, she walked over and jumped up onto her bed. She hadn't noticed that Prim had followed her quietly up the stairs and was now standing in her doorway leaning into her room with her hands behind her back. She was a bit of a nosy and curious kid, but Katniss knew she was completely innocent and nothing of a trouble maker. She just liked doing a little harmless snooping on her sister every now and then, and Katniss never really minded because Prim wasn't the kind of kid that was annoying or got on her nerves like other siblings could. It was all a goof and she knew that better than anyone.

She opened the text from Peeta and was about to re-read yet again when her little sister crawled up onto the bed next to her. She leaned back, put her head on Katniss's shoulder and with a voice filled with obvious interest, asked, "Who's _that_ from?"

Katniss quickly shut her phone and gave Prim a stern look, but then burst out laughing. Of course Prim would be inquisitive as to who a certain text was from and if she knew her sister, then she knew Prim wouldn't be leaving till she found out who it was from.

"No one," she said, failing to hold back a smile. Prim was too funny and amusing to stay mad at for long. She was one of those little sisters that was just about impossible to get angry at, let alone _stay_ angry at.

"Aww, please?" Prim pleaded, giving Katniss the 'puppy eyes' she knew her sister couldn't resist.

"Really no one," said Katniss with false seriousness. "Just my imaginary friend."

"Imaginary friend?" Prim giggled. "I didn't know you had one."

Katniss shrugged and replied with, "Well, I do now. His name's Imaginary. Pretty original, huh?"

Prim stared at her sister for a moment longer, then once more gave her those same, identical eyes that could have indeed belonged to those of a puppy.

Katniss rolled her eyes, smiled and said playfully, "Oh, fine! I wish I would have never told you about getting what you want with puppy eyes! You'll always get what you want from me with those buggers. If you wanna know that bad, it's from a guy in my art class."

"What's his name?" she asked curiously.

"Peeta Mellark."

"Hey, that sounds familiar," she said, repeating the name out loud. Then her face lit up when it finally hit her. "Now I remember! He's the boy from the bakery we always go to, isn't it? The one who decorates all those pretty cakes I show you? The ones with all those flowers, animals, swirls and other stuff on them?"

"Yeah," said Katniss, nodding. "That's him." _Your memory's so much better than mine, Little Duck._ _You remember him right away and here on the first day of art class I'm sitting next to him and it takes me a few minutes just for it to sink in who he was. You've always been better at remembering things though, that's for sure._

"I bet his paintings are really good," said Prim. "He does such a good job doing the cakes. His paintings are probably just as good. I wish I could see them! I'd probably want to hang one up on my wall."

Katniss thought back to the first day of school when she'd first met Peeta in art class. It was the day they'd been assigned to complete portraits of another person and the incredible piece he'd created of her was still vividly fresh in her mind. She also recalled the day they'd been asked to bring in an object from home to paint or sketch, and Peeta had brought in three beautifully decorated cupcakes. She could still remember them so well – the one that looked like a pumpkin pie, the one that looked like a chocolate chip cookie and the one she loved best which was the one that looked like Buttercup. All had been uniquely designed and just as amazing in detail.

"They are," she said, losing herself in her thoughts. Without even realizing it, she went on, "He's...he's amazing, really. I mean, I haven't really seen anyone paint or do cakes like him." Her mind seemed to drift off a million miles away and her unblinking eyes stared off into space. Though she wasn't aware of it, a smile was slowly starting to form on her lips and she'd also forgotten that her sister was sitting right next to her. It was one of those rare times when she'd find herself leaving reality and entering a place that was so full of thoughts, she'd swear she was asleep and dreaming.

Prim watched her sister carefully and seeing the unmistakable smile on her face and the noticeable sparkle in her eyes, she couldn't resist letting out a giggle. As hard as she tried, she simply couldn't remember a time when Katniss had smiled at anything to do with boys. Boys just weren't a subject that managed to get her in a fit of laughter as opposed to all the other things she'd find amusing. At the mention of Peeta, however, a smile had definitely crept onto her face and her sister could see it just as plainly as if her face was coated in paint.

"Do you _like_ him?" she asked, more curious than ever.

Katniss shot her sister a look of shock and then reached out and began tickling her. Katniss knew just where Prim hated to be tickled which was right in her sides. It was the only place on her body that got her laughing uncontrollably and it was one of the few ways she was able to have total control over her little sister. She'd tickle her just long enough so that Prim would beg her to stop and of course she would, and just as she'd hoped, Prim would stop bombarding her with nosy questions. She liked doing this because where some sisters would bark and snap at their siblings to leave them alone or get lost if they were driving them crazy, Katniss was much easier on Prim and hardly ever raised her voice at her.

"That's enough questions, Little Duck!" she said, pretending to sound overly stern. "Shouldn't you be doing that reading log?"

Prim got down from the bed and gave Katniss a playful grin."I'm going to start it right now. I just like playing with you, that's all. It's fun."

"Oh, I know that," said Katniss with a knowing chuckle. "You've pretty much mastered that."

Prim then gave one final grin and said honestly, "But it _does_ look like you like him, Katniss. The way you said, 'He's _amazing,_ really,' and then you had this smile and gleam in your eyes that looked like you —"

"I don't like him!" said Katniss quickly.

"Yes, you do," said Prim with a huge smile. She didn't believe her sister for even a second because the way she saw it, her eyes had just said it all. "I've never seen you smile like that before! You can't hide that smile from me, Katniss. I saw it. You like Peeta Mellark! You've got a big old crush on him!"

"Nope."

"Yes!" Prim shot back, and still the smile hadn't dropped from her face. "You never get a smile on your face like that when it comes to Gale. Sure, you smile around him but the smile you just had on your face when you mentioned Peeta was ...well it was magical. You don't smile like that when you've got a bag of candy in your hands, and you don't smile like that when you get A's on all your math tests! I've never seen you get a smile on your face like that Bigger Duck. You like him!"

"No, I don't," said Katniss firmly. _Looks like you're not gonna give up, Little Duck. I just wish you didn't think me smiling meant that I'm in love with someone. Smiles mean lots of things. People smile when they're laughing, when they're happy, when they're excited and for a whole bunch of other reasons. Just because I smile doesn't mean I'm in love. Why do people always connect smiles with love, anyway? Smiles aren't just for love! They're for lots of things._

"Yes, you do," was Prim's response. It was clear she wasn't buying into what Katniss was telling her, not even a little. The simple fact that she wasn't accepting all the 'no's that were getting thrown at her confirmed that she indeed felt differently.

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Do you want to kiss him?"

"What? No!" Katniss shot back with a look of immediate shock on her face. "Why would I want to kiss a guy I barely even know?"

"I bet you do."

"I don't even know the guy!"

"That doesn't matter," Prim countered, not backing down in the slightest. "Judging by the smile on your face, I'd say you'd kind of like to know what it'd be like to kiss Peeta Mellark."

"I have no desire whatever to know what it'd be like to kiss him and I know what you're going to say to that and one more time...no I don't like him. We can go on like this all night and the answer will always be the same and that's one hundred percent...no."

"Then why are you blushing?" Prim questioned while putting her hands on her hips. _Oh, you like him, Katniss! I see that red on your cheeks. No way you got red like that for nothing, and I think a guy named Peeta had a little something to do with it._

"I'm not!" Katniss told her, but she could feel clear as day the flush in her cheeks. Soon, her entire face was heating up and she wished the warmth of it would just vanish, but it wasn't. "It's just feeling kind of...hot in here." _Hot in here? What kind of excuse is that? It's only September and yet I'm saying it's hot in here. People say that kind of stuff in summer...not fall. No way she's gonna believe that! Not a great way to try and convince your sister, Katniss. No way she's falling for that._

"Can't talk your way out of this one, Bigger Duck," Prim went on in her playful tone. "You like him, Katniss! You're red as a tomato. You have a crush on Peeta Mellark and you can't say you don't because you do! I know and I bet all your friends know too. If you smile around them the way you just smiled now, then they know about your little crush too."

"For the last time, no I don't," said Katniss stubbornly. "I'm not crushing on anyone. I've never liked guys and even now, I'm still not into them. It's the same with Peeta. He might be different and not like other guys I've met but I'm still not crushing on him."

"My big sister's in love!" Prim exclaimed excitedly. "She's finally found the prince of her dreams! For so long she's waited and looked and now at last he's swept her off her feet and—"

"That's a little dramatic, don't you think?" laughed Katniss. _You're funny Little Duck._ _I know how fond you are of things like that but no way that's Peeta and I._ _I'm sure you'd like it to be but he's not my prince_. _Who knows if there's even a prince out there?_ "Like a fairy tale with princes and princesses and all that?" She then corrected, "He's a friend, Prim. I'm not in love with him. We draw together in class, but that's it. I agreed to help him with math and he agreed to help me with art but there's nothing more than that going on. He's my tutor in art and I'm his in math but that's all that's going on between us. Just art and math...nothing else. And fairy tales aren't real. They're just make-believe."

"They are too real!" Prim shot back instantly.

"But they're just stories, Little Duck," Katniss reminded her, her voice softening. "Reality and fairy tales are two different things. You can't think what happens in fairy tales could happen for real."

"Why not?"

"Because they're just stories," Katniss repeated. "Stories are fiction. What happens with all those princes and 'happily ever afters' just aren't part of reality. Maybe they sound nice and people wish they were true but you can't expect that to happen."

"I don't care what you say, Katniss," said Prim, and a confident smile was slowly but visibly reappearing on her face. "I know fairy tales are real, I know Peeta's probably the perfect prince for you and I know what that smile on your face meant. Whether you think so or not, you feel something for him and I'm pretty sure it's a bit more than friendship."

"You might think I do but there's no way I—"

"Oh, I don't think," Prim chirped as if she could read her older sister's mind as easily as she could her own. "I know."

"Well, you're not gonna be able to read it this time since I don't feel that way about—"

"Katniss and Peeta sitting in a tree—" interrupted Prim in a singsong voice.

"Hah-hah, that's so funny, Prim. Don't keep singing or I'll fall on the floor and die of laughter and then you'll have so much guilt on your shoulders that you won't know what to do with it. The whole prince-of-her-dreams-thing was bad enough, but you'll kill me if you get any worse. I'd stop now if I were you."

"K-i-s-s-i-n-g," Prim went on in that bubbly, singsong voice, ignoring her sister completely. "First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Peeta with a baby carriage!"

"I'm sure you find that incredibly funny," said Katniss. "But for the last time and I mean this...I don't like him. Maybe you'd like to think I do, but I don't. You know what I'm like when it comes to guys, Little Duck."

"Yes, you do," Prim repeated, and started laughing because the sight of her sister in constant denial of what she was hearing was all but hilarious. Normally, she'd be one to answer calmly that she wasn't curious or interested in some guy at school, and Prim wouldn't have thought twice about that because she knew what Katniss was like. But this was different. "Do, do, do—"

"Okay, Prim, okay!" said Katniss, waving her off dismissively with her hand. "I surrender. You've made your point. Now can you please go get started on that reading log so I can...do my own homework. I actually have a lot of stuff to do and I'll be up half the night if I don't get started."

"I thought you said you didn't have any?" asked Prim, confused.

"I don't," Katniss admitted. "Not homework for school or anything but I do have things I need to... _think_ about. So I kind of do have homework in a way, only it's not for school. It's more for myself, really." _Too bad it couldn't be as easy as math homework. I'd have that done in less than half an hour._ _I'm probably gonna be up most of the night with this little assignment. Who knows if I'll even get it done?_

"Oh okay," said Prim. "See you in the morning then." As she made her way down the hall towards her own room at the far end, she called back with a small chuckle, "And good luck with your homework, Katniss."

"Night, Prim," Katniss called to her, then added, "And thanks."

Before Katniss had time to return her attention to her phone, she saw her little sister's head peeking in her room one last time.

"I know what your homework is," said Prim with the tiniest wink. "Took me just five seconds to know what you meant by that."

"I know what you're thinking Prim but it's got nothing to do with that."

"Nothing?"

"Exactly."

"Nothing at all? Not even a little?" asked Prim with a half smile. "Because I thought for sure that's exactly what you meant."

"You just won't give up will you?" said Katniss with a shake of her head. She gave a laugh, readjusted the pillow underneath her while getting comfortable and told Prim, "When are you gonna believe me when I tell you I don't—"

"You like Peeta, Katniss," Prim declared and gave another knowing, playful wink. "You love him! It's written all over your face and—"

"Same as before, no I don't."

"They say denial is the first sign that says someone's in love!" Prim cleverly pointed out. "If you really didn't love him, then you wouldn't be so quick to say no. You'd just be all calm and say 'No, I don't like him,' but you didn't do that."

"And where'd you hear all this?" asked Katniss while raising a brow in curiosity.

"School," said Prim with an almost unnoticeable shrug. With a smile, she added, "You can learn almost anything there, you know. Every little thing you want to learn about love and crushes, you pick up at school. It's all anyone talks about and it's pretty hard not to pick up on things when you hear it wherever you go. Word travels fast."

"Can't always believe what you hear though," Katniss reminded her in an attempt to convince her what she'd said wasn't entirely true. "Yeah, they might talk about it a lot but that doesn't mean it's true. So just because you heard denial's the first sign someone's in love doesn't mean it's right."

"Maybe," said Prim, and another one of her grins was crossing her face because she knew Katniss was still acting just as stubborn as ever. "But you can't fool me, Katniss. You're in love with that boy and there's no way you can make me think for a second that—"

"Goodnight, Little Duck!" laughed Katniss, amused by her sister's constant remarks. _That's not true! People can deny all the time they're not in love and yet most still think they're lying. Well, that's not the case with me. Guess Prim doesn't believe me though. She should though because there's no way I'd start crushing on some guy all of a sudden even if he is nice, funny...and not like anyone else._

"Night, Bigger Duck," said Prim, and turned to head down the hall to her own room.

Less than five minutes after Prim had left, Katniss realized she'd just been joined by someone _else._ She looked down to the foot of her bed to see him – Buttercup. She laughed and thought back to Peeta's cupcake that matched the cat that was Buttercup so perfectly. Everything from his muddy yellow coat, mashed-in nose, half of one ear missing and eyes the color of rotting squash had been effortlessly brought to life with the simple, yet detailed creation that had been Peeta's treat. She remembered how he'd used a Jujube candy for his nose and two small liquorice pieces for his short whiskers. So creative it had been and thinking back on it, it still amazed her how similar it had looked to the cat now in front of her.

"Here to help me with some homework?" she asked him, expecting him to turn and bound right out of the room to go find Prim. It wouldn't have surprised her since Prim was undoubtedly his most favourite person in the world.

Buttercup turned his head and gave Katniss a hiss that sounded more like a howling, guttural shriek. It was a hiss, like the hundred others she'd gotten from him that she was all too familiar with. She wasn't fond of him and he was even _less_ fond of her. That had been their relationship since they'd met when Prim first brought him home. Katniss glared at him for a moment before returning to her phone. She knew he could very well claw her face off if that was what he wanted, but no way was she going to suggest to him that she was afraid of him. As long as she gave him the impression that she thought of him as nothing but a total annoyance, then she wouldn't have sharp claws scratching at her face. Not only that, but she knew that Buttercup knew how much Prim loved her big sister, so if ever he did decide to give Katniss a good slashing with his claws, then he'd only upset Prim and he loved Prim too much to ever see her upset about anything.

"I'll just pretend I didn't hear that," said Katniss, referring to his hiss. "So how much do you know about tenth grade math?"

The cat stared blankly at her as if she'd just asked him to name all the planets in the correct order.

"Not sure? Okay, how about graphing?"

Hiss.

"No? Alright, scratch algebra then. What about word problems?"

Louder, more irritated hiss.

"So that's a no to graphing and a no to word problems. Ever try algebra?"

A deafening, ear-splitting shriek was all she got in response to that question.

"Okay, okay!" she shouted, covering her ears with both hands to block out the sound of the hollering cat. "Got it! So a no to algebra, a no to word problems and a no to graphing. So am I right in thinking you won't be any help to me?"

The cat gave a large yawn but didn't break out in another of his piercing cries. Instead, he just went on sitting there at the end of her bed as if all he wanted was for her to bring up a topic that might actually interest him. Judging by the growls and shrieks he'd just given her, he clearly wasn't a cat that cared to hang about while working through algebraic questions or anything else that involved math.

"Guess I'm on my own then," sighed Katniss in false disappointment. "I was really hoping you'd give me a hand too. I've got so much math homework that I probably won't get to bed till one in the morning."

The cat glared at her without even blinking as if he didn't believe for a second what she was telling him.

Katniss shook her head in amusement and told him, "You're pretty smart if you know I got all those questions done at school. You're like a little genius in disguise. Well, math's all done but I still have stuff I need to think about. I just hope it won't take me that long."

She then proceeded to browse through the photos on her phone and came across one that she wanted to show him. She leaned over and the second she put the phone in Buttercup's face and he saw the image of the cupcake that had been made in his honour, he started purring. Since day one when he'd first been brought home to them, he'd always purred loudly and Katniss couldn't help compare it to that of a car engine. What with how loud, deep and throaty of a purr it was, the only possible thing she could really compare to was that of an engine. It was such a loud and obvious purr that she could have been standing out in the hall and she still would have heard it.

"Of course _you'd_ like that," said Katniss, not surprised. "Pretty amazing, isn't it? Looks just like you." _Now if that had my face on it, you'd just step on it_ _or start hissing at it like it was poison or something. Or if it was Prim's, you'd just sit there and smile at it and then try and eat it. No, I've never seen you smile before but I bet you can. You're too predictable,_ _Buttercup._

By this point, the cat wasn't paying any interest to Katniss. His eyes were glued to the screen and the displayed cupcake that had unintentionally been made to look like him. Where he viewed Katniss as boring and unexciting, the colourful image in front of him was the total opposite – plenty interesting and exciting in more ways than one.

"Want to see who made that?" she asked, starting to search again through the different pictures on her phone. She removed the phone from Buttercup's face who instantly stopped purring at having his beloved picture taken from him while she continued looking. She finally found the one she was looking for and stopped. She placed the phone back in front of him and his reaction to this picture compared to the last was far more... _extraordinary. Definitely unexpected and was in no way normal, typical behaviour of a cat. She certainly hadn't been expecting this kind of reaction. The most she'd have expected was for him to return to his usual purring but what he went on to do was something else entirely._

The image Katniss had shown him was one of Peeta and it was one she'd taken just a few days ago in art class. He was sitting where he always sat at his spot in the back of the room where all the supplies and materials were held. He was looking into the camera with the friendly and sincere smile Katniss had become so familiar with her over the past few weeks and as usual, his blue eyes were shining as brightly as always. There was nothing particularly special about the photo; it was simply a photo of a guy smiling in his favourite class in high school.

But when Buttercup's eyes caught sight of Peeta Mellark, he didn't begin purring – he began _meowing._ It was a meow that sounded somewhat throaty as if he was suffering from a constant cold, but it couldn't be mistaken for anything but a meow. He just sat there flicking his tail contentedly from side to side and meowing at the picture of Peeta. Katniss watched him curiously, and felt a little puzzled as to why his reaction would be one of such e _xcitement. He'd never even met Peeta before, so what was to get so excited about? It wasn't a familiar face like Prim's, so it wasn't that he'd recognized the person. He hadn't the slightest idea of what kind of person Peeta was – friendly, rude, hilarious, obnoxious, unlikeable, mysterious, unique – so what was with his odd, peculiar response to his picture? It was almost as if Buttercup knew already what kind of guy Peeta was simply by staring at the photo in front of him, as if the picture were giving him all the answers. Katniss never understood much of what the cat did or why he acted the way he did but this was just one of those times where she didn't question him much and instead just went with it._

"What?" she asked him. "You like the picture?"

Buttercup's response was to just keep meowing. Not once did he pause briefly to lick his paw, stretch, wash his face or hiss and take a swipe at her out of sudden annoyance. For whatever reason that Katniss just couldn't figure out, all he was focused on was the photo of Peeta. Even if she'd brought in a bowel of his favourite meat-flavoured kibbles, still his focus wouldn't have left the picture of the blond-haired boy.

"So you like Peeta Mellark then, huh?"

The cat didn't stop his consistent meowing, nor did he turn his head to even give her so much as a quick glance to acknowledge her question. His eyes were only on Peeta.

"You don't like him more than _me_ though, right?" she asked, and then added sarcastically, " _I'm_ your favourite, aren't I? Even more than Prim, right? You just can't get enough of me, can you?" _Yeah, right. More like you're his least favourite person in the world. But it's so fun teasing him, and I know he hates it. Better watch it though. He might leap at my face._

As anticipated, Buttercup didn't like that at all _._ He stopped his meowing at once and switched over to hissing and growling at Katniss as if she'd just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. It was like she'd waved a red flag in front of him and like a raging bull, all he wanted was to charge and take her apart one piece at a time. The hissing went on for almost a solid minute and no doubt he would have went on hissing for much longer if Katniss didn't speak up and say something.

"Fine, fine!" said Katniss, giving up and holding her hands up in surrender. Engaging in battle with this cat wouldn't have been wise, so she did the smart thing and declared him victorious. "I get it. You like him more. Okay, so Peeta's better than me. I guess that makes sense...he _is a good guy. A lot better than me, that's for sure."_

The cat went perfectly silent and locked his eyes on Katniss, as if she were _finally_ starting to say what he'd wanted her to. She couldn't make out the reason for his odd and strange behaviour and figured it was just Buttercup being Buttercup. The only person who ever really understood why he did things the way he did or acted the way he did was the one who loved him the most and that was Prim. To Katniss, attempting to understand what kind of cat Buttercup really was felt like trying to solve the world's hardest, most challenging math equation. She knew from the day Prim had brought him home that he wasn't a normal cat in any way, shape or form and was instead one of the strangest and oddest pets one could wish to have. It didn't make sense to her why he was acting the way he was towards Peeta's picture, but she knew it was better to not question whatever the cat did and rather, to accept that he was just an unusual pet. If there was any other reason for his peculiar behaviour, then she didn't have a clue as to what it could be.

Katniss slowly returned her attention to her phone as if that was the only thing she could think of doing. She stared at the photo of Peeta and without even realizing it, kept her eyes on him for about five minutes. Without even knowing it, for those five minutes she'd been transported back to the art room, the place where she'd first met him. She wondered if she and Peeta hadn't ended up in the same class together, if she ever would have met him at all. Would she ever have talked to him or even said hi? Would they have occasionally bumped into one another in the halls while on their way to classes? Would she have continued to remember him only as the boy at the bakery she and Prim went to frequently and not as the kind of guy who'd make a wonderful friend, partner and tutor in art class?

She took a minute to browse through her other photos and came across one of the more recent snapshots she'd taken of Gale. She and him were standing by their usual spot deep in the woods which was in front of the tall maple tree that soared over their heads. The two both wore smiles on their faces and it was then she recalled what Gale had said to her so many times and that was that she never smiled except in the woods. All the hours she and him spent together engrossed in a world that was so vast, beautiful, and all theirs to explore left her at ease and content. It was only in the woods as he'd pointed out to her – amidst all the trees, nature, rivers, silence and occasional chirping of singing mockingjays – that she'd reveal her biggest, most genuine smile.

"How about this one?" asked Katniss. She held the phone out towards Buttercup so he could get a closer look at the photo. "Look pretty happy, don't we? Gale says I never smile except in the woods...what do you think?"

Buttercup didn't examine the photo right away. He finished giving his paws a quick, yet thorough washing and then lifted his head to see what Katniss was showing him. One single glance at this newest picture was all it took for the cat to present her with the oddest, most unexpected reaction yet. She'd thought the way he'd responded to Peeta's had been out of the ordinary but what she was now seeing was ten times stranger.

For whatever reason, the cat's ears had gone back fully and were now resting flat on his head while his thick tail swished vigorously. His pupils had dilated, growing three times their normal size and there was a sudden look of distrust in them. Every hair on his body – from the top of his head right down to the bottom of his toes – was now standing on end as if he'd just encountered a menacing dog. All Katniss could do was stare in confusion as he went on glaring at the photo of Gale. Soon, he was growling under his breath and just as she was about to grab the phone, he lunged out and swiped at the device without hesitation.

"What's wrong with you?" she exclaimed, her mouth open in shock. "It's a picture of Gale, not of the devil!"

Buttercup's answer was to hiss and swipe once more at the phone with his curved claws, leaving her more baffled than ever. It made no sense how he was acting. His behaviour towards Peeta's photo had been one thing but what had caused him to start acting so strangely? Plenty of times he'd glanced at pictures of Gale and not once had he ever hissed, swiped, growled or given signs that suggested he was afraid. She knew it couldn't have been that though. He'd seen Gale enough times over the past four years to know that for Katniss, he was her closest friend, a person she could trust and in many ways, family.

"It's a picture of Gale!" she repeated while shaking her head in puzzlement. "Don't you see that?"

All she got from the cat was even louder hissing and more violent, aggressive swipes.

"What's the matter with you?" she muttered under her breath. "You'd think you'd never met him before."

The cat ignored her question and went on staring suspiciously at the photo of her friend. She shot him an irritated look, then shook her head again while snatching her phone out of his grasp. He gave one final, throaty growl and returned to what he'd originally been doing, which was cleansing himself. It amazed her how swiftly his mood had changed. In seconds, he'd transformed from a hissing, vicious animal that would have left her phone in pieces to a now relaxed, laid-back cat whose primary concern was hygiene.

There was no questioning the cat was no longer interested in Katniss's phone and whatever it was she was now doing on it. All he'd cared about were the three cupcakes and the photo of Peeta but aside from those two things, her phone wasn't of any importance to him. He was now sitting comfortably at the end of her bed with his head tucked between his paws while purring loudly, sounding more than ever like a running engine.

When she shook herself together, Katniss left the photo of Peeta and then went to browse through her various texts. She found the one she was looking for and like before, went on re-reading it.

 _Hi. I know you might not want to talk to me right now, and I completely understand if you don't, but I'd really like to see you and talk to you about what happened earlier at lunch. Again, if you don't want to, I understand. I know what Rye said was a lot to take in and I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to see or talk to me right now. I can't imagine where your head's at with all of this but if mine's spinning, then I can't even think where yours is. But I have some things I do want to say to you. Do you want to meet after class by my locker? I promise not to keep you long. Please reply if you get a chance. Thanks._

She'd now read the message so many times that she had the whole thing memorized. As she sat there, focusing on the text and thinking of Peeta, it was like his smiling face hadn't gone anywhere. It was _still_ there and it was after she'd read through his message a few more times that she found herself more puzzled and unsure of herself than she had been that entire day. She'd hoped that by reading it a few more times, things would become more obvious and she'd know what to say and do about the whole situation. Yet just the opposite was happening. Clarity was nowhere to be seen but there was still more than enough confusion than she knew what to do with.

She kept her eyes on his face and beaming smile, not quite knowing what else to do. Wanting more than ever to find the answers that would tell her how she felt about all this, she thought tiredly, _what do I_ _do?_ She wanted more than anything to sort out her feelings and determine where they all stood regarding Peeta because she knew if she didn't, then it would be a long, tiresome night of staring up at the ceiling and thinking of nothing but Peeta. She'd get not a wink of sleep, feel tired in the morning and even then she might still find herself not fully sure of how she felt about him. All she wanted was for it to be a simple and smooth process of sorting out of her thoughts and figuring out just how she felt about the blond-haired, blue-eyed boy named Peeta Mellark. Why did sorting out her countless thoughts and feelings have to be so time-consuming? Reaching a conclusion shouldn't have been so tricky and she knew her mind wanted to be done with it all.

But all she kept coming back to was how frustrated she felt at having to spend so long thinking things over. Why couldn't she be like other girls and make up their minds almost instantly? Why did she have to let her mind wander and get itself lost? She had no idea but all she could conclude was that she definitely wasn't like other girls, and never had been growing up. There was no questioning that. Where girls around her would spend their time involving themselves with make-up, drama and boyfriends, Katniss was never concerned with such things and still wasn't to this day. She was never one to obsess about how attractive she was; she'd never been one to find drama appealing or exciting, and watching guys and wishing for a boyfriend had never been one of her main concerns.

She knew she'd always been different from other girls, but she liked that she'd been her own person and never let anyone change her. But sitting there, keeping her eyes on nothing but the photo of Peeta that was in her hand, she had to wonder if there was a possibility that she was changing. Up till then she'd never been one to fret about guys, what they thought of her and how she'd go about getting together with one. That had been the case...till she'd ended up in the same art class as Peeta and without hardly realizing it, had found herself becoming more curious about him. The two had never spoken much throughout the years and rarely did they ever bump into each other at school except for the odd time in the halls. Ending up in the same class together had given Katniss a chance to learn a bit more about Peeta, and it gave him the chance to finally talk with Katniss and discover the kind of person she really was.

 _I never would have thought guys could be so confusing,_ _thought Katniss._ _I guess it's not his fault, though. I'm the one sitting here giving myself a headache because I can't even decide how I feel about him. Why can't I just see him as some normal, random guy in my class that I'm partnered up with?_

The longer she went on staring at his smile, the more it felt like he was trying to reach out to her. It felt like he wanted so badly to help her find the answers she was searching for and let her know that he _was_ there. He might not have been there physically, but in some strange and bizarre way, it felt like he really was there with her emotionally, as if he was right there whispering into her ear.

His voice, both calming and comforting, whispered, _I'm here, Katniss. I'm right here. I promise...I'll_ _always_ _be here for you. If you want me to be there, I'll be there._

It was then that she noticed Buttercup lifting his head and staring over at her lazily. She caught his gaze, stared him right in the eye and got the oddest feeling that he was trying to...help her. It was either that or he was attempting to tell her something that she so desperately wanted to be told. It made no sense to her how this cat could help her with anything at all, but his eyes were locked right on hers and as she stared harder, she saw they weren't even blinking.

What she didn't know was that as she sat there on her bed gazing into his eyes...she was letting her mind drift back to several years ago to the first time she'd officially met and spoken with Peeta Mellark. She was on her way to revisiting the time when she'd been only twelve years old, to the time when she'd first encountered the quiet boy with the blond hair and blue eyes. In so many ways, it felt like forever ago but in even more ways, it felt as if it were only yesterday.


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER 14**

 **SEPTEMBER**

It was a cool, breezy autumn day when Katniss and her sister Prim were strolling down the streets for an afternoon walk. Their mother never minded the two going on short walks along these streets because it was only a five to ten minute walking distance from their house, so she knew the two were always close to home. Most times, Katniss and her sister enjoyed going for walks down these streets more than any other because of the various stores and shops that could be explored. There were so many and Prim always found it fun to check out each of them, what with how many there were and how truly unique each store was. Some sold an endless amount of electronics; some sold building supplies; one was a massive grocery store; others sold enough clothes to last one a lifetime and some sold an infinite supply of toys for children. The store that Prim favoured more than any other was the one that sold nothing but candy. She'd taken more than a few trips there and each time she'd come out with a paper bag filled to the top with gummies, caramels, licorice, chocolates, peppermints, gumballs, lollipops and ones that were incredibly sour and let one's tongue tingling.

She and Prim had taken many walks along these streets but as they sauntered down the sidewalk on that particular day, everything around them felt so much quieter and lonelier. They didn't take in the activity and discussions of those around them as if they were all but invisible and not even present. Even the brightly-colored stores – including the candy shop – no longer appeared as inviting as if all the color had been drained out of them. The two also weren't chatting like they normally did and instead, remained silent and said not even a word. There was a reason that the two were so silent and uninterested in conversation, and that was because their father had passed away just days ago.

He had been brutally shot while on his way home and upon hearing the news, the three knew that their lives from that point on would never be the same. Their poor mother had been turned inside out completely and Katniss was left to do all she could to be there for her sister and do whatever she could to keep her as strong as she could possibly be. Going on walks helped to keep their mind off things and it was always nice to get out and get a bit of fresh air while enjoying the sights of all the colourful stores and shops. Along with her Sundays with Gale where they'd hike through the woods chatting and laughing for hours, strolling down these streets almost always helped ease whatever stress was sitting in her head.

They'd been walking for about ten minutes and were thinking about turning and heading for home when they stopped and looked up at a small, white building in front of them. As they stood and took in the sight of this building, they saw that it was divided into two portions and that the top section was most likely made for living in. Whoever it was that owned this place most likely lived up above and down below was where they ran their business – which was a bakery. They caught the name of the place by lifting their heads and catching notice of a large sign hanging over the door that read: Mellark Bakery.

Near the bottom and close to the ground were two words with one written on one side, and one written on the other. In black letters on their left side was the word PASTRIES and to their right was the word CAKES. A large window was situated over the word CAKES and as Prim and Katniss walked up to get a closer look, they saw the unmistakable sight of cake after cake on display from behind the window. As they pressed their faces against the glass and looked in, they saw the cakes were beautifully decorated and each was done up in its own special design. Some were made to look like gardens with blooming flowers of all colors – strawberry red, bright yellow, lavender purple and royal blue – and the petals were of such remarkable detail that they looked mind-bogglingly real. Other cakes had been done to look like pies and still some were decorated to appear like cats, dogs and a variety of other animals. A few looked like Halloween jackolanterns with the triangle-shaped eyes and jagged smile. Some were like gorgeously done Christmas trees and there was one they noticed that had a breathtaking rainbow that reached into a large pot of gold. Sitting with its back against the pot was a tiny, laughing leprechaun with an orange beard, green eyes and a pipe in its mouth.

"Can we go inside?" asked Prim excitedly, her eyes shifting rapidly from one cake to the next. "I want to look at the cakes! Maybe even buy one!"

"But Mom didn't give us much money," Katniss told her. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a single bill and a couple of quarters. "We've only got about ten dollars, so we might not have enough."

"Can we at least look?" asked Prim, and gave her the puppy eyes that her big sister could never say no to.

Katniss sighed, chuckled lightly and said in resignation, "Fine. Let's go then."

Prim squealed in delight and opened the door and made her way eagerly inside and was followed right behind by Katniss. The minute she walked in the door, she saw that Prim was already observing all the cakes with widened eyes and with an entranced smile on her face. There were so many cakes out and on display that she hardly had time to get a good real look at one before she'd noticed another one and quickly turned her attention to that one. When Katniss walked up beside her, she saw why Prim was so interested in the cakes because up close, they were far more detailed and beautiful then they'd looked from outside. To get a proper inspection of these well-crafted cakes, one had to be standing directly in front of them to make out all the striking, hidden details.

As they were moving along to get a closer look at the many other cakes, Katniss heard someone strolling up behind them. When she turned and looked, she saw it was a boy about her own age and in his arms he was carrying a large cake that was decorated in colors of only orange and green. It seemed like a combination of a sunset appearance mixed in magnificently with the green that reminded her of forests, plants and the world that was nature.

She kept her eyes on the cake for only a moment before she was suddenly looking the boy over. In a way, she wasn't even aware that she was but she'd been so surprised when he'd first appeared that she really couldn't help it. His hair was a dirty blond that fell in smooth waves over his forehead and what stood out the most about him were his eyes. Katniss only got a quick look at them but she'd gotten a good enough glance to know that they were the brightest shade of blue she'd ever laid eyes on. The brightness of them reminded her so much of the ocean or of the sky on a gorgeous summer day. He was also of a stocky build and though he was only twelve, there was no questioning that for a boy his age, he was in considerable shape.

When the boy set the cake down beside the others, he casually turned his attention to his left and when he saw Katniss and her sister staring at him curiously, he was instantly hit with a sense of excitement and nervousness. Before he had time to think or open his mouth, he felt the flush of red burning in his cheeks like wild fire and he knew there was no hiding it. The only way he'd get away with no one seeing it was turning and running back into the kitchen, but he knew that wasn't an option. He tried pretending he was examining the cakes but all he could think was that Katniss was wondering about the red in his cheeks and why he was so quiet, for he still hadn't yet opened his mouth.

 _I-It's her!_ the boy thought, looking back and forth between the cakes and Katniss. _S-she's here! In the bakery! She's actually in my home!_ He then wanted to gasp out loud as he wondered in confusion and fear, _what do I do?_

He didn't have long to debate about what he should do because Katniss was already opening her mouth.

"Hi," she said, still watching him curiously.

The boy turned and gave her a long look and a shy, but friendly smile.

"H-hi," he said quietly, and his voice was so close to a whisper that Katniss barely heard it.

"Excuse me?"

"H-hi," said Peeta, feeling suddenly timid. But he managed to clear his throat and say in a more normal tone, "I-I said hi." _You gotta speak up! I know you're nervous, but you can't let your nerves get in the way. Just pretend you're not nervous. That should help._

Katniss gave a small smile and said in return, "Hi."After another quick look around the bakery and at the remarkable cakes, she asked, "Do you work here?" Well, I mean, you're probably too young but do you live here?"

"Yeah," he said nodding, his voice still so quiet, but loud enough that he didn't have to repeat himself again. "I live here. My dad's the one that runs the bakery. I help out sometimes though."

"Oh," said Katniss, and then pointed to the cakes in front of them. "I really like these cakes by the way. Who did them?"

"My dad did most of them," said the boy. "But I helped out a bit too. I like decorating them. It's fun."

"You did some of these?" asked Prim, sounding amazed. The boy's only response was to give a silent nod and a slight shrug of his shoulders.

"They're really good!" she said, shifting her eyes from one cake to another as if she had to take in the beauty of each and every one for fear that they'd somehow vanish.

"Thank you," he said quietly. _Still kind of quiet, but at least she can hear what I'm saying. I wish I could quit being so shy though! Everything could be so easy then!_

"Did you do this one?" asked Prim, pointing to one that was iced entirely in pink.

The cake was done up to look like a beautiful, delicate bouquet of roses and surrounding it were various swirls and lines that were the brightest shade of pink she'd ever seen. The flowers themselves looked so unbelievably real that if she reached out and touched them with her fingers, she'd be surprised if the petals weren't soft and silky. Each individual flower looked like it had been plucked right out of nature itself to become part of one of the many cakes of the Mellark Bakery.

The boy nodded and before he had time to speak, Prim was quickly asking him with curiosity, "What about this one?"

She now had her eyes on one that was iced in blue, yellow and white and no one could mistake what it had been done up to look like. It was a cake that consisted of three layers, and it was one that had undoubtedly taken a great deal of time to create. The icing on the bottom layer was a deep blue and had been designed to look like rolling waves and Prim thought they looked so incredibly real that she wondered if that portion of the cake might feel wet and cold if she touched it with her finger. The middle layer was iced in yellow and was done up to look like sand with tiny, countless shells all of which were of different shapes and colors. Some were round and smooth, others were pointed with sharp, rough edges and some even looked like half moons one might see in the evening sky. Finally, the top layer had been carefully decorated the same as the layer below it – to look like smooth, gravelly sand – but placed along the edges were palm trees with cocoanuts and in the center was an orange umbrella and under it was a towel, sunglasses and sunscreen. It was a perfect replica of a day at the beach and eyeing it more closely, both Prim and Katniss found themselves wishing they were lying on the sand with their faces to the warm, glowing sun.

Again, the boy nodded and it was then that he noticed that Katniss was staring at him. Prim had stopped asking questions because she was so busy examining each of the cakes, comparing them and working hard to decide which she might like to buy and take home with her. He met her gaze for a brief second, but it was like her eyes held some kind of power over his own and all he could do was pretend he wasn't aware of her watching him.

Katniss then gave him another look and asked, "What's your name?"

"Peeta Mellark," he said, and Katniss could still make out the noticeable red in his cheeks. He saw her staring at him and all he could do was look nervously to the ground while shuffling his feet.

"What's yours?" he asked shyly. _Why are you asking that? You already know her name!_

"Katniss Everdeen."

He smiled and said, "Hi Katniss."

 _I wonder if she knows that I know who she is_. _Or maybe she doesn't know that I've been watching her for so long. Maybe she thinks I've forgotten who she is_ _and didn't recognize her till now._ _I wonder if she recognizes me_.

"Hi," said Katniss, and then it was like it was finally hitting her that she'd seen this guy before. He wasn't a stranger, nor was he a completely unfamiliar face. She went on, "Oh, I remember you! I feel silly for not having recognized you. You're one of the boys in my classes at school, right?" _How did I not remember that? I've seen him more than once in the halls and in my classes. Guess I just forgot._

"That's right," said Peeta quietly. "I...I'm in all of your classes."

At last Katniss was remembering that she'd seen this boy before but she didn't think about it for long because she was now noticing something else. She was now focused more than ever on the red in his cheeks and was all but puzzled as to why the red in them hadn't vanished. She was confused as to why his cheeks would be glowing and thought it was pretty odd. What she didn't know was that whenever this guy would catch sight of her in the halls and she'd give him so much as a quick glance, his cheeks would start flushing. Luckily for him, she'd never once noticed this but there was no denying that she could see clear as day the red that was now burning in his cheeks.

"How come your cheeks are red?" asked Katniss in confusion.

"I-It's nothing," Peeta explained, and chuckled lightly, though the butterflies in his stomach where fluttering near out of control. He feared if he didn't keep his nerves under control, they'd take flight and then there'd be no hopes of calming them down. "I-It happens sometimes. No one really knows why though." _I hope she doesn't think I'm lying! I wonder if I shouldn't have said that. Does that not sound very good? It happens sometimes? Why couldn't I have thought of something better to say?_

Katniss didn't answer right away, but then she asked, "How come you're stuttering?"

 _Why can't I talk normal_? thought Peeta, and feared he'd soon start sweating. _I've wanted to talk to her for years and now she's finally here! Come on, Peeta! Get rid of the red in your cheeks and stop stuttering. Just please, please don't think I'm weird. It's just...I've just been in love with you since the first day of school. That's all._

"That's another thing that happens sometimes," he said, and chuckled again. "I guess weird things just happen to me every now and then. Nobody really knows why. Red in my cheeks, stuttering...but other than that, I'm okay. Really."

"Oh, sorry for asking so many questions. I probably shouldn't have—" she said, but he quickly interrupted her.

"That's okay," said Peeta softly. "I don't mind." _I just wish I could give you better answers. Or maybe if I could just tell you the truth about why my cheeks are red and why I'm stuttering. B-but what if she thinks that sounds even sillier? I wish I could just tell her how much I love her..._

Before Katniss could answer, she felt Prim tugging on her arm and she looked down to see her sister pointing with excitement at one of the cakes. It was decorated to look just like a cat and Katniss knew instantly that Prim wanted it.

"Can we buy this?" she asked with a smile. "I like all the cakes, but this one's my favourite! I loveit, and I bet Buttercup will love it! Please?"

"Prim, I don't even know how much it is. We might not have enough money. I've only got ten dollars." She then looked back to Peeta and asked while pointing at the cake, "How much is that one?"

"Six dollars," he told her. "It's one of our cheapest ones, actually."

"Please, Katniss?" Prim begged, and handed her the cake so she could see it up close. "I bet Mom would like it, and it's so cute! See its little eyes and whiskers? And it's even got a tail!"

Katniss only had to give it a second's thought before responding with a playful smile, "Oh, fine! Anything else you'd like to buy? We still have four dollars left, so we might be able to buy something else."

"How about some bread?" Prim suggested. "I think I heard Mom saying she wanted to go out and buy some soon. We could get her some now."

"That sounds good," said Katniss, and then asked Peeta, "How much would a loaf of bread be?"

"Three dollars," was Peeta's response.

"Alright, so we'll get the cake and a loaf of bread then," said Katniss, and started making her way over towards the counter. She placed the cake on top and then watched as Peeta made his way to one of the rooms near the back and he called back to her, "We're just making some fresh bread right now. I'll be right back."

"Okay."

While she and Prim waited patiently by the counter, Peeta went into the back kitchen and was about to check up on the bread he'd put in the oven not long ago, when his mother came storming into the room. He could tell right away that she was furious and he had a pretty good feeling as to who she was upset with – him. The second he saw his mother enter the room, he remembered that she'd asked him to keep checking up on the bread to ensure that it didn't burn or overcook and as he now realized...he'd forgotten. Most times he always remembered to check up on whatever it was that was baking but he also hadn't expected for a surprise visit from the girl he loved. He'd been unable to think about anything else but her and if he could possibly have a quick conversation with her before she left. Seeing her in the bakery and standing so close to her had pushed any thoughts about baking bread completely out of his mind. But as he stared up into his mother's face, he knew what he was in for; he knew his mother well and he knew what the consequences were when he or his two brothers did something wrong or 'messed up', as his mother liked calling it. Not too often were Luchi or Rye disciplined or given a severe punishment, but Peeta knew too well the kind of punishments his mother preferred throwing at him whenever he screwed up and got it wrong.

"You were supposed to check the bread!" she told him angrily. By the tone of her voice, anyone just entering the place would have thought something serious had occurred. It wouldn't have crossed their minds that what really had happened was that a young boy had forgotten what his mother had asked of him, and now the woman was wild.

She went over to the oven, opened the door and when she saw the burning bread inside, she quickly closed the door and shut the oven off. She remained silent for a moment or so as if letting the anger build up inside her, but then turned to Peeta with a look of nothing but rage. There was fire in her eyes and the glare she gave Peeta made him want to back into a corner and hide. It was impossible to stare his mother in the face for so much as even a few seconds. The sheer look she gave him was one of authority and power and more times than he could recall, it left him feeling like some lower life form. It was like the blackness that filled her eyes drilled right into his head and even when he dropped his gaze and stared at the floor, still he couldn't escape from it.

"What's the matter with you?" she howled. "I ask you to do a simple favour, a simple, goddam favour and this is what you do?" _I'll never fuckin' understand this boy. How the hell do you not remember to check up on things? What were you possibly doing that was so important that you had to let something burn!_

"I-I'm sorry, Mom—" Peeta started, but his mother obviously didn't care one way or the other what her son had to say. It was like his words went in one ear and out the other. Most times she never even gave her son a chance to say whatever it was he wanted to say and instead, would only raise her voice and cut him off as if all he spoke of rubbish and nonsense.

"Don't even bother, Peeta!" she hissed, and raised her voice to a shout. _I swear this boy will never learn. He's twelve years old and yet he's still always dropping things, always forgetting things and always screwing up! What the fuck is wrong with him?_

By now, both Katniss and Prim could hear the shrieking voice of Peeta's mother and it was making them feel extremely uncomfortable and concerned as to what was happening back in the kitchen. It was eerie having to stand there and wonder what on earth could have caused one to sound so infuriated. It was even eerier wondering what would happen if this witch of a mother came out and saw them waiting there. What things would she possibly say to them? Would she finish scolding her son for the simple intention of shoving any additional rage onto her and her sister's shoulders? But would she really treat an innocent customer like that?

"What's going on?" asked Prim quietly, moving closer to Katniss.

Katniss put an arm protectively around her sister and whispered, "I don't know, Prim. Let's just wait till Peeta comes out."

"She sounds mad though!" said Prim nervously. By now, she was unable to shift her gaze from the back of the bakery. She might not have been able to see with her eyes the scene that was unfolding, but her ears could make out the unsettling shrieks as easily as if the witch was standing just a few feet in front of her. "She won't come out here, will she?"

"I don't think so," said Katniss, trying to sound as reassuring as she could. "But let's not talk about it, okay? It's not really any of our business. We're just here to buy some stuff and then—"

"But, Katniss!"

"Shh!" said Katniss in a firmer voice. "We can't get involved, Prim. We just came here to buy some things. It's not our place to ask questions."

Prim looked like she wanted to argue, but she only nodded and tried hard not to concern herself with what was going on back in the kitchen. That was easier said than done, especially because the bellowing voice of Mrs. Mellark refused to go silent. As if wanting to distract herself, she walked back over to the display of cakes and busied herself observing them in closer detail. Katniss remained where she was and the noise coming from the back of the kitchen became louder than ever. She hoped things would settle down and the bakery would return to its peaceful atmosphere, but all that was consuming it right then was unremitting screams that sounded like they belonged more to a demon than a person.

"I'm so sick and tired of you it isn't even funny. I ask you to do one stupid thing for me and you can't even do that? What about doing what you're told do you not understand? What are you? An idiot?"

"I-I'm really sorry," said Peeta shakily, and all he wanted was to run and get as far away from his howling mother as he could.

He actually wanted to start crying because he knew how enraged his mother would become if she ever caught her son 'screwing up.' Where his father would never have laid even a finger on his son, his mother was the polar opposite. She'd hit, kick, batter him senseless and strike him with such blows he'd swear stars were swirling over his throbbing head. Whether it was giving him a black eye or an aching bruise on the arm, she'd let him know just how badly he'd messed up.

"I-I promise I won't do it again," Peeta stammered, but he had no time to finish because once more his mother was cutting him off.

"I told you I didn't want to hear it!" she screamed, and that was when she'd officially had enough.

She lashed out at her son and slapped him across the face with such force that it felt like her hand was made of steel. Peeta did his best not to show the pain he was now feeling from her hit, but he didnotice his eyes start watering from the brutal and sudden impact. This had always been the one thing that assured his mother that she had given her son a smack of enough force to let him know how truly aggravated she was feeling. Depending on how angry of a mood she was in and how annoyed she was at Peeta, more than once she'd put even greater force behind her blows. And each time her son was left wondering if instead of having received a punch to the face, he'd actually had needle after needle jabbed into his cheek. He knew this was never the case, but she was a woman that could make him feel as much pain as she desired and too often he was forced to suffer through all of it.

Of her three sons, he knew he received by far the most punishments.

His oldest brother Luchi was hardly ever chastised. Because he was nineteen and now working full time in their bakery, he contributed more than his two younger brothers, who were still making their way through high school. And as his mother would always point out, "He's mature and doesn't mess around when it comes to doing what needs to be done. He does what he's supposed to and gives me no reason to put him in his place."

His brother Rye received disciplines from time to time, but nowhere near as often. He'd get a blow to the face, or a smack to the head but they never proved as severe when compared to what Peeta was given. Rye would be left with a stinging pain that would shrink and vanish in less than a day, whereas the red on Peeta's face would linger for a few days, or sometimes even a week.

In his mother's eyes, she identified her sons in different ways. Luchi was seen as the 'does what he's supposed to and therefore doesn't get on my bad side too much' kind of son. Rye was seen as a 'gets on my nerves, doesn't work as hard as he could but at least he knows when to keep shut and not argue with me' kind of son.

As for Peeta, in his mother's eyes he was seen as maddening; useless; a boy that talks far more than he should thinking he can talk over me; a boy that wastes valuable time focusing on things that will benefit this bakery in no way, shape or form; a screw-up; a clueless idiot; and a hopeless daydreamer that likes to entertain himself with foolish dreams.

As he stood there trying to ignore the stinging in his now burning cheek, his mother grabbed one of the loaves next to the other and shoved it into his arms. Her eyes were still very much on fire and Peeta had no doubt that his mother would still be pounding him into next week if not for the fact that she had other things that needed to be done. She simply didn't have the time to stand there and carry on yelling in his face, even if she felt he deserved a more lengthy punishment.

It was a relief that she was the busy woman she was because if not for that, she'd spend every spare second of her time making Peeta's life miserable. The very thought felt like knives piercing his body. His mother wasn't a thick and dense kind of person. If she wanted to transform her son's life into a wretched hell, she would because she'd know exactly how to go about doing it. It would be as simple as removing all things in his life he enjoyed doing. No longer would he be able to draw and let his imagination run wild because pencils, pens and paper would be taken from him. No longer would he be able to treat himself to even a single cheese bun or cupcake because all food in their bakery would go to customers and customers only.

It was a life he was extremely thankful he would never have to experience.

"Here, just take this," she snarled in annoyance, and Peeta nearly dropped the bread but was somehow able to keep it in his arms. If not for his quick reflexes, he would have dropped it for sure and then he'd be faced with yet another punch to the face. "Just take this and get the hell out of my sight. I'm sick of looking at you."

He was definitely feeling a bit shaky but no way was he going to drop the bread in front of his mother for fear that she'd lash out at him yet again but this time with much greater force. He knew she was capable of sending him tripping over his feet and falling flat onto his back, and then having the wind knocked out of him. Though the image of him on his back was enough to leave his body in a state of worry, there were more daunting things lodged in his mind. The most frightening of these thoughts was that someday if his mother lost it completely and went off the deep end, then his head would hit the ground so hard that it would be enough...to kill him.

"Just give them this and let them leave. And if they complain that it's not fresh enough, then tell them to go buy it somewhere else. Or maybe you could just tell them it's your fault in the first place since you were the one that burnt the fuckin' bread."

She was about to turn and leave, when she suddenly stopped as if something had occurred to her. Peeta had seen this look from her plenty of times. It suggested that she'd perhaps forgotten something, was finally realizing something or that she'd become undeniably curious about something, which is what it usually was. As Peeta was well aware of, his mother was a nosy and snooping kind of woman that always had to have her questions answered. Either that or all hell would break loose yet again.

"Who's that for anyway?" she asked in a snippy tone, and stared down at the loaf of bread. She then crossed her arms impatiently while waiting for Peeta to open his mouth, give her an answer and tell her something that wouldn't make her eyes bulge out of their sockets.

"A-a customer," said Peeta nervously, and wanted so badly for his mother not to bombard him with questions.

Rolling her eyes, she spat back at him, "Well, no shit it's for a customer! I figured that much. What I meant was who the customer was."

"I don't know who they are," Peeta said, struggling to keep his voice steady. "I've never seen them before."

"You liar!" she said in seething growl, and took a few steps closer to her son. She saw him back up only slightly as if he knew attempting to run would be all but hopeless. There was no escaping the clutches of Mrs. Mellark when she was having an outburst.

She stared him right in the eye and demanded, "Who's that bread for? And don't you dare lie to me."

Peeta blinked, and was just opening his mouth to answer when he was cut short by his mother.

"Well?" she snarled.

"K-Katniss E-Everdeen," Peeta stammered shakily. He then tightened his hold on the bread and dropped his gaze to the floor and had to fight to keep his body from trembling. Though his mother frightened him, what he was more scared of was her storming out and showing Katniss and her sister just how nasty of a witch she was, and demonstrating why so many feared her.

She clenched her teeth and muttered, "Everdeen, is it?" She said the word 'Everdeen' as if it left a horrid poison in her mouth, or was a word she simply hated having to say at all. She chuckled only for the shortest of a second before adding, "That stupid creature you're so fond of? The one you're always going on about?"

"S-she's not stupid, Mom," said Peeta quietly. He knew it was unwise to argue with his mother but he couldn't stand to hear her talk so rudely about the girl he'd loved since kindergarten. "S-she's actually kind of quiet like me and—"

"She's pathetic!" hissed his mother, and took a step forward and grabbed her son's shoulder. It all happened so quickly that Peeta wouldn't have had time to make a run for it even if he'd seen her approaching him. When she was angry, she moved impossibly fast and no way could he have ever outrun her. "Pathetic, you hear me? She's garbage like every other person out there! What you see in that rat, I'll never understand. But know that you're wrong about her. You're wrong about everything!"

She then gave him a rough shove as if wanting nothing more to do with him. Peeta nearly tripped over his feet but as usual, was somehow able to stay on his feet.

"She's nothing but a rat, you hear me?" his mother repeated while glaring at her son. "A stinkin', filthy rat just like her screwed-up mother!"

"No!" Peeta argued, but made sure to keep his voice quiet. "She's not like that! Not her! I-I've seen her in school and she's not like that at all."

Shaking her head, his mother said in a peeved tone, "Why can't you ever shut up and accept that I'm always right and you're always wrong? You're just a stupid, naive twelve-year-old brat that can't see the truth in anything! You ignore everything that right in front of you! Why you won't smarten up and accept the truth in things is beyond me."

As she turned and hurried out of the kitchen, Peeta heard her muttering under her breath, "Why in the worldcouldn't I have had a daughter? Just my fuckin' luck I end up with these three. No, instead of getting a daughter, I just get stuck with three sons and one of them I can barely stand." _Here all I ever wanted was a_ _daughter but yet I couldn't even have that. Why I couldn't have had a daughter, I'll never know. If only I could just take one of my sons and transform them into one, then at least I'd only be stuck with two rather than three. Too bad that'll never happen._

Peeta looked down at the bread, frowned and slowly made his way out to where Katniss and Prim were still patiently waiting for him. He didn't have to look either of them in the eye to know that they had heard every word spoken between he and his mother. When he set the loaf of bread next to the cake, he bit his lip nervously while waiting for his father to come and ring the items through. He felt like his whole body would explode and he couldn't imagine what was going through Katniss's mind, and what she might possibly be thinking. He figured Prim was feeling pretty shocked and probably more than a little afraid at hearing the snarls of his witch of a mother. But she hadn't even mentioned Prim; the only person she'd talked so disrespectfully of was Katniss.

"Do you mind having nuts and raisins in the bread?" asked Peeta. "I can get you guys some plaid bread if you'd like. I should have asked what kind of bread you wanted before bringing it out."

"Oh, no, that's fine," said Katniss.

"We like nuts and raisins," Prim added.

While Peeta went on biting his lip, Katniss asked him quietly, "Are you okay?"

She couldn't help but notice the red welt on Peeta's cheekbone, which would soon turn into a sore, uncomfortable bruise that would last him a good two or three days, maybe even a week. She wasn't sure if she ought to have asked that, knowing that whatever it was that had went on between him and his mother, it wasn't any of her business. But noticing how red his cheek looked and how painful it must have been, some nagging voice had convinced her to ask.

He nodded and said in embarrassment, "Y-yeah, I'm fine. W-we just fight sometimes, that's all." _That probably doesn't sound very good, Peeta. Here you come out with your cheek red and your mother was just screaming at you. She probably thinks we do a lot more than just fighting every now and then._

"I-I'm sorry about what she said about you," Peeta apologized with embarrassment and at once Katniss could see the look of shame and guilt written all over his face.

"It wasn't your fault," she pointed out to him. _He stuck up for me, but...why? Why did he bother say all those things at all? Why didn't he just let his mother say what she wanted to say? He doesn't even know me and yet he still defended me._

Peeta shrugged and said, "I still feel horrible though. No one deserves to be talked about like that."

"Look, it's not your fault," said Katniss, wanting to eliminate all the guilt he was clearly struggling with. She didn't like watching people beat themselves up over something they couldn't have prevented from happening in the first place. "I know she said some pretty bad things but you couldn't have stopped that."

Peeta locked eyes with her, but just as quickly returned his focus to the ground under his feet.

"Thanks for sticking up for me though," Katniss said appreciatively.

Peeta nodded and said in that same quiet voice, "Your welcome."

There was a brief pause, and then Katniss told him, "You didn't have to do that though."

Peeta then lifted his head to once more stare into her eyes. There, he saw an mistakable look of confusion, as if what he'd done for her was genuinely puzzling her, and she just couldn't find the answers that might shed some light on why he'd done what he'd done. It made perfect sense that she'd have no clue as to why he would have taken such a blow to the face just so he could step in and stick up for her.

"It's okay," said Peeta and in a soft, sincere voice, told her, "I wanted to."

Katniss still couldn't understand why he'd done what he had. Why would he have put himself in such a position, knowing it would have only ended badly for him? Hadn't he known that arguing back and not dropping the conversation would only result in additional pain? With how little it all made sense, she could have gone on standing there pondering about it for hours and still she would have felt just as lost. She would have at least spent a few more minutes searching for answers if not for the fact that something to her left had grabbed her attention.

Her initial reaction was to ignore it as it was probably nothing, but that lasted for only a second. When her eyes had shifted to the left, the sight they were met with was one that was both unexpected and greatly overwhelming. Out on the busy sidewalks, people were strolling about with smiles on their faces while holding loaded bags in their hands. To see people wandering outside – shopping, gossiping, joking and enjoying the day – wasn't what had caused her to look to the window. There was absolutely nothing abnormal about what she was seeing outside the bakery. It was a day just like every other where people were out shopping, running errands and spending money. Any other time, this wouldn't have struck Katniss as out of the ordinary because what was unusual about a sidewalk busy with crowds of people?

But something out there had forced her to go on staring in silence. It had caused her to no longer feel interested in the dozens of cakes surrounding her and it even made her forget momentarily the argument that had occurred between Peeta and his mother. Where her eyes were now locked on the bakery window, Prim's eyes were still taking in the sight of all the cakes and other incredible delicacies. If she'd taken just a brief moment to look where Katniss was looking, she would have seen the identical thing, but her eyes weren't focused on the outside world.

As for Katniss, the sight to her left was both unbelievable...and haunting. So many people walked these sidewalks but at that exact instant, one single person was pulling at her heartstrings. He remained in her field of vision for no more than a few seconds and just as quickly, he was gone. It didn't matter that he was there for such a short time though because the image of him would be one she wouldn't forget, even if she'd wanted to.

That was because the man appearing outside the bakery window...looked exactly like the man that had been her father for twelve years. Everything from his thick brown hair, gray eyes and olive-colored skin made him look as if he were Mr. Everdeen himself. He wasn't, of course, but the resemblance was so evident that anyone who'd known and spoken to him would have guessed from afar that he was indeed Mrs. Everdeen's husband.

When her eyes first fell on him, Katniss swore the world started spinning. On top of that, she felt her mouth going dry, her legs going numb and her heart begin pounding right out of her chest. She simply couldn't believe what her eyes were seeing. Out of all the people that were filling the sidewalk outside, she'd somehow noticed this man and was immediately wishing she hadn't. Rather than decide to steal a look at what was happening outside the bakery, she should have kept her eyes on Peeta, Prim or the multiple shelves of cakes. She hadn't though and now because of that, her mind was going to a place she'd been visiting constantly over the past few days. It was a dreadful, miserable place that brought nothing but anguish for Katniss. In this place that held infinite torment was the never-ending sound of gunshots and the pained, piercing cries of her murdered father.

Even when the man had vanished and was now entering one of the nearby shops, still Katniss couldn't take her eyes off the window. She was now thinking only of her father and how cruelly unfair it was that some heartless maniac had to shoot him down in cold blood. Questions like 'why him?' and 'why did it have to happen?' were now all she could obsess over. Sounds of gunshots, pouring rain, chilling laughter and a deafening scream raged on in her throbbing head. The entire bakery itself had gone invisible as if Peeta, his mother and everything else had been erased from existence.

She hated the fact that she had to look at that window at all. If she hadn't, she likely wouldn't have even noticed the guy that so painfully looked like her father.

Without realizing it, her eyes were starting to water. She wasn't even remotely aware of it and didn't notice how lost in her thoughts she was even when tears were trickling down her cheeks. All she could dwell on was the unbearable truth that no matter how similar in appearance her father and that stranger were, it wasn't her father. He'd been taken from herself, Prim and their now shattered mother by a twisted man who saw pleasure in slaying innocent lives. Because of that man, he was now gone and would forever remain gone.

Peeta, meanwhile, still had his eyes fixed on Katniss for he too had gotten a glimpse of the man that appeared so much like Mr. Everdeen. He'd seen her staring in disbelief as the man casually walked by the bakery and just like her, he'd also been taken aback by the startling resemblance. It instantly occurred to him that such a sight would be horribly painful for Katniss and he just couldn't imagine what thoughts were racing through her mind. He felt so powerless to do anything but stand there and watch her with a saddened expression, knowing her father's death had just struck them days ago.

When she finally snapped out of her thoughts and turned to look back at Peeta, he too found himself returning to reality. Right away he saw the tears still sliding down her cheeks and by the way she was now quietly staring at him, it was clear she'd known his eyes had been on her. He wanted so badly to open his mouth and say something but what in the world could he say to her? He had no idea what it was like to lose a father but judging by how close Katniss had been to hers, it must have been devastating. He searched for a word, any word that could possibly help lessen the grief she was now experiencing. He couldn't stand there and do nothing though. Whether he said something to her or not, it didn't matter. All he knew was that he wasn't going to let her leave his home without trying to give her some small speck of hope she could take home with her.

Not knowing what else to do, he kept his eyes on hers and gave her such a warm, gentle smile that she was hit with the sense that he was giving her something. But how smiles could do that, she could only wonder. All she knew was that he was giving her a smile that filled her entire being with a feeling of...hope. In his eyes she saw a mixture of things – kindness, empathy, sincerity and unmistakable hope. She couldn't ignore it or try and convince herself it was only nothing, because it was anything but. His smile was one that offered her hope and not in a very long time had she been given a smile from someone who seemed so caring and selfless. Over the past few days especially, the world seemed to have become a place ruled only by tears, frowns, screaming and sorrow. But he was now sending her a smile that spoke volumes, and the most she could do was stare back and wonder what exactly he wanted to say to her.

The two locked eyes for the longest moment, and then after wiping the remaining tears from her eyes, she refocused her attention to his reddened cheek. It seemed even worse than it had just minutes ago, but she figured it was just her mind playing tricks on her. Even so, it still baffled her why he'd gone and talked back to his mother when he knew better than anyone what a spiteful witch she was. When she repeated what he'd said to her once more in her head, it sounded more bizarre and confusing than she would have thought it would.

" _It's okay. I wanted to_."

Katniss hadn't responded to his answer and still she found she was unable to respond to his words. Even if she'd wanted to, she wasn't too certain she'd have been able to find the right words, let alone even a single word. She just stood there next to Prim while glancing over at the cakes as if not wanting to make Peeta feel any more embarrassed than he probably already felt. She guessed he must have felt pretty awkward having to stand there with his cheek red after having been screamed at by his heartless mother.

 _But why?_ she thought, still not having any idea of why Peeta would have bothered to even argue against his mother. _What would make you want to stick up for a girl you don't even know? I'm pretty much a stranger to you, so why would it matter what your mother said about me?_

A million questions were rushing into her head, and each was more complex than the last. All she could focus on was that Peeta – a guy she never even talked to and hardly ever ran into around school – had taken the time to defend her. Even more baffling, he'd just reappeared with one of his cheeks burning with red, which meant his mother had obviously lashed out at him. That was what confused her more than anything else – the fact that he'd gone ahead and stood up for her even if it meant putting himself at risk for a harsh, brutal strike to the face. So many questions were swimming in her head, but they were all questions she knew she'd never get answers to.

Luckily Peeta's father, Mr. Mellark, arrived a few seconds later. Both Katniss and Prim only had to have a quick glimpse at this man to know that he was a much kinder and friendlier person than his nasty wife; one look at his face confirmed that. Where his wife's face would often transform itself to a state where her nostrils flared, her eyes burned like flames and her lips quivered with rage, her husband's face was in a constant state of calmness. Never did he fly off the handle, lose his temper or take his anger out on others. He was a man that seemed always at peace and though this wasn't entirely true, he did a remarkable job at hiding whatever troubles it was he was dealing with in his life.

When he saw the red on his son's cheek, he put a hand on his son's shoulder in sympathy. No words were spoken between them, but Katniss could sense that his father was secretly giving him words of comfort and support. It was the way Mr. Mellark and his son exchanged looks that Katniss knew the two were engaging in conversation, but were doing so in silence. At once, it made her think of the look and small smile Peeta had given her just presently. No words had been spoken from either one of them but in the strangest way, it still felt as if they were somehow communicating.

Turning away from Peeta, Mr. Mellark then turned and faced Katniss and Prim.

"Hello," he said in just as quiet of a tone as Peeta had used. "Will this be everything?"His voice sounded near identical to his son's, only his was much deeper. Aside him that, his voice was just as serene, soft-spoken and peaceful as Peeta's.

"Yes, thank you," Katniss answered.

"Your cakes are really pretty," said Prim politely.

"Why thank you," said Mr. Mellark with an appreciative smile. "That's very nice of you to say. Were you able to pick out a favourite?"

"That one," said Prim pointing at the cake on the counter. "I love all the cakes but that one's the best! It looks like our cat. That's why I picked it."

Mr. Mellark chuckled and said, "Peeta and I enjoyed making this one. I'm glad you like it."

After he'd rung the items through, Katniss paid him the ten dollars and he handed her the change. He then went ahead and put the cake and loaf of bread into a large plastic bag.

He handed the bag to Katniss with a smile and told her, "You two have a nice day."

"Thanks," said Katniss with a slight nod of her head. "You too."

Before she and Prim could head for the door and leave, Peeta called to her quietly, "Bye, Katniss. It was really nice seeing you." _Say something!_ Y _ou'll never know what she thinks of you if you don't open your mouth. Don't do the same thing you've done for years! Now's your chance to finally get to know her._

She gave Peeta a final look and said, "Bye, Peeta. Nice seeing you too."

 _Ask her, Peeta!_ he thought, not taking his eyes off her. She and Prim were now at the door and she was seconds from stepping outside and leaving the bakery. In just a few short seconds she would be gone and he would be left wondering why he hadn't had the courage to say what he wanted. _She's gonna leave! Just ask her if she'd like to come back some time. Ask her_ _if she'd maybe like to hang out with you at school o-or eat lunch or...or something!_

It was too late.

Katniss and Prim were already gone and Peeta's chance at getting in one last quick conversation with her was gone as well. Once again he'd let his nerves get the best of him and he'd been letting that happen since he'd first fallen in love with her at five years old. He'd tried so hard to get over his nerves and shyness and really talk to her and ask her if she'd like to be friends but time and again he'd failed. It just seemed so impossibly hard to do something as simple and straightforward as opening his mouth.

Mr. Mellark gave Peeta a silent pat on the shoulder and a quick, "What do you say you and I decorate some cakes later?" before leaving to go help out his wife.

All Peeta could do was nod.

He was having a hard time bringing his mind to the present considering that all he was focusing on was the past and future. He wished there was a way to put a stopper on time and live forever in the moment where he and Katniss had just been freely chatting in the bakery. He knew it was a waste to wish for such things, but it never stopped him from wishing all the same, even if it was completely hopeless. All he could do was sigh sadly and wish he'd worked up the nerve to speak up and talk more with Katniss.

But he realized dwelling on the past would do him no good. He had to put away his past, let it become a collection of memories and look ahead to the future and above all...hope for the best.

 _Maybe...she'll come back again_? he thought hopefully. _Maybe then I'll work up the nerve to try and be friends with her. Yeah! That's what I'll do. The next time she comes down here I'll ask her then_.

Things didn't work out exactly how he thought they would though.

The following day at school, he and Katniss passed by each other in the halls. He noticed Katniss's eyes on him and he knew exactly why. No doubt she was staring at the red on his cheek and his left eye which had blackened terribly. He met her eyes only for a short, brief second before butterflies flew into his stomach and he was forced to drop his gaze to the floor. As he turned and made his way to his next class, he wished he would have plucked up the courage to stop and say 'hi' to her but like with every other time they passed by one another...he was all but silent.

When Katniss opened her eyes and looked to the end of her bed, she saw Buttercup had woken up and was now staring at her intently. He didn't blink, turn his head or give her any reason to believe he wanted to ignore her. His eyes were locked on hers and though Buttercup was only a cat, right then he appeared more human than cat, and it was all but strange. Cats never behaved or acted like humans but the look in his eyes was far too intense to belong to that of a typical animal. His tail flicked lazily from side to side and he was kneading the blanket in front of him as if wanting to get just a bit more comfortable before dozing off again.

It was watching Buttercup that Katniss was brought back to that moment in the Mellark Bakery yet again.

This time, she thought back to when Peeta had walked out holding the loaf of bread in his hands. She remembered spotting the man that had looked so much like her father, and then reflecting on how life had changed so horribly for her, Prim and her mother now that he was no longer a part of it. But the second she saw Peeta's warm smile and the bread he'd placed on the counter, it was like he was trying to give her a feeling of...hope. She hadn't been sure if Peeta knew of her father's passing but she figured he would have since mostly everyone around town was aware of the tragedy that had so unexpectedly struck the Everdeen family. For whatever reason that she wasn't quite sure of, his smile and the bread he'd brought out for them had been somehow secretly granting her with a sense of hope. It was small and vague but it was hope nonetheless. And ever since that day when she'd seen his smile and heard him deny everything his mother had said about her before bringing out the loaf of bread...she'd begun referring to Peeta Mellark as the boy with the bread. The image of him re-appearing with the bread in his hands and the red on his cheek was one she hadn't been able to let slip out of her mind.

As she sat there on her bed with her head on the pillow, she revisited the day after she'd spoken with Peeta. It was the day when she'd noticed a single yellow dandelion in the grass, and how it had reminded her of Peeta. Now that she was recalling her memory of that lone dandelion and how she'd connected it to Peeta, she understood that the dandelion had done just what Peeta's smile and the bread had done. Where his smile and the bread had given her a sense of hope, the dandelion had been telling her something – and that was that she was not doomed. It was like as she'd stood there taking in the sight of it, she'd finally came to the realization and acceptance that she was not doomed and that she, Prim and her mother would ultimately find a strength inside them to keep living. She would get through losing her father and would find the strength to be there for her sister and mother.

What also resurfaced in her mind was her first day of high school where she'd been met with the identical sight. While heading out the doors and starting for home, she'd detected something yellow not far from where she was standing. When she turned to see what it was, she saw a single yellow dandelion and just as she'd done when she was twelve, her thoughts had gone straight to Peeta Mellark. After giving it much thought, there was only one reason she could come up with for having seen those two dandelions at those particular times in her life. Both dandelions had spoken the same message and that was that Peeta – though quiet and shy – would be there for her. He'd been there at the age of twelve and now four years later at sixteen, the blond-haired, blue-eyed boy was still there.

Those dandelions combined with the bread he'd given her and his genuine smile was all racing through her mind and the longer she went on thinking about them, the more sure of her thoughts she was starting to feel. She wasn't entirely sure that she knew just where her thoughts stood in terms of how she felt about him but she felt like she was getting just a little bit closer to figuring it all out. Her sea of confusion was slowly but surely becoming replaced by growing certainty.

 _Seems like Peeta's been there all along_ , she thought tiredly, and wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and drift off to sleep. But she couldn't. There was still too much thinking and pondering to do for her to simply nod off. She still hadn't gotten around to sorting out her feelings but the more she thought about it...the more she felt convinced that she was finally coming to a conclusion as to where her feelings stood. The hazy fog that had been clouding her thinking was leaving and now settling into place was clarity. Buttercup sensed this change as well because where just a moment ago he'd been preparing to relax with a pleasant nap, he was now wide awake. He'd stopped kneading the blanket and was instead, stretched out comfortably on his side and was purring louder than ever. There was no arguing this cat was now fully content.

 _Even then, back then_ , thought Katniss, holding her phone up and re-reading his text once more. _He was still always there for me. It never hit me till now that he's always been watching. I know I didn't realize it then but he was always there. He might have been quiet and shy and didn't say a whole lot but...he was still_ _there._


	15. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER 15**

 **SEPTEMBER**

When Peeta arrived home, the first thing he did was to dig out the two diagrams he hadn't gotten around to finishing in class and take them up to his room. He wanted to get them done and out of the way before supper, and as he felt so tired from that long and stressful day, he doubted he'd end up finishing them if he left them till later on. He felt it was better to just come home, get the homework done and then focus his thoughts on what he'd been wondering about all day, which was Katniss. She'd been on his mind constantly since she'd left the cafeteria and walked off and he'd been left to worry about how he would come up with a plan to fix what Rye had started. So far, he'd come up terribly empty but his determination was just as strong as ever and there wasn't a chance in the world he'd be giving up anytime soon. If there was a chance that he could undo the damage that Rye had caused, then he'd be grabbing it one hundred percent.

Luckily, now that Peeta was a bit more focused than he had been in class where all he could think about was his phone, he was able to work more quickly. He used his textbook to scan the pages and find details and pictures that helped him to fully label the two uncompleted cycles. It took him no longer than ten minutes to get both done. He would have easily been able to get them started and finished in class if his mind hadn't been so focused on Katniss and the serious dilemma he was now in. He was just thankful he was getting them done now and wouldn't have Mr. Boggs giving him a hard time about it tomorrow as they'd be done and complete. Once they were fastened back into his binder, he took his bag and put it in his closet where he always did when he got home. He gave his closet a quick look and told himself he'd have to tidy it up the next time he got a chance. There was no denying that it was somewhat of a mess.

 _Can't worry about a messy closet right now though_ , thought Peeta, closing it and then heading back over to his bed.

He had roughly an hour till supper, which meant he had a full sixty minutes to sit back and let his mind wander as he tried to figure out what Katniss might be thinking. Was she just as lost and puzzled as he was? Or did she just want to avoid him entirely? He desperately wished he knew, but there was no way to know just what she was feeling; the only way he could ever know was if he had the power to read minds and that was obviously a thing he wasn't capable of doing in any way. All he could assume was that based on the fact that she'd left him and ignored the text he'd sent her before school ended, she was clearly wanting nothing to do with him. The thought of Katniss avoiding him felt like knives getting thrown into his heart, and all he could hope for was that whatever it was she thought about him...wouldn't get changed for the worst.

 _That was_ when he remembered something. In that split second it was all coming back to him. He had someone else he also had to concern himself with, and this guy was the one responsible for creating this whole mess due to his irritatingly obnoxious mouth. Peeta hadn't run into him after what had happened at lunch and he knew that was a good thing. But he was home now and he wasn't going to let this go without first saying something to the rat. No way was he going to let Rye come home and not get something said to him, not after the total humiliation he'd inflicted onto his brother.

He remembered the words that rang through his head after having had all his secrets divulged, and those had been: _What goes around comes around...and it's coming right back to you._

After running those words over once more in his head, he left his room and walked down the hall towards his brother's. When he reached the door, he stood there for a moment and listened. Of course his brother was listening to music and was no doubt probably destroying his ear drums in the process. Rye was never one to care about the potentially damaging effects that loud music could have on one's ears and whenever Peeta would try and suggest to him to turn it down, he'd just get up and try and give his brother a brutal punch to the head. Once this occurred, not once did Peeta ever make that suggestion to his brother again and figured that if the guy didn't care about ruining his hearing, then that was his problem. There was no use attempting to warn him of the possible risks as it was clear he just didn't care.

It amazed Peeta what kind of guy Rye was and trying to understand his way of thinking was about the most impossible task to undertake. There was no use trying to get into his head as there wasn't a person in the world he'd let do that. For so long, it had always been the same routine with this guy and still was to that day: get up, go to school and not pay attention to a single teacher as it was all hopelessly boring to him, come home and avoid doing homework like the plague, tease his younger brother a bit and then head to bed like the lazy, sluggish creature he was. It was a wonder that the guy had made it to the eleventh grade at all and Peeta figured that if he kept acting like this, there was a good chance he'd never make it to the twelfth grade, let alone graduate from high school. At least Luchi – Peeta's older brother – had completed high school and was now working full time in the bakery by helping his parents. If Rye ever had any hopes of at least helping his parents out in the bakery, then he'd at least have to get through high school and based on his grades so far, he was doing a terrible job of getting on the path to making that happen.

When he reached his brother's room, he knocked three times on the door. When he got no response, he knocked louder and shouted, "Open up! I know you're in there and don't try to pretend that you're not."

From inside his room, Rye took off his headphones and gave an irked growl at the sound of his brother's nagging voice. There were a lot of things that got on Rye's nerves but there was nothing he hated more so than having people invade on the beloved, personal space of his bedroom. It was a world he kept solely to himself and having others come barging in defied all laws in how he demanded things should be run.

"Go away!" he snarled tetchily. "Go do your homework or something and quit bothering me."

"I'm already _done_ my homework," countered Peeta firmly, still knocking loudly. "Now let me in, or I'll just kick it open myself. And you know I can do that."

"Oh, I'm so scared!" taunted Rye's, rolling his eyes in provocation. "So you wanna start kicking at my door? Go ahead! Who's stoppin' ya? I'll just put up another door and make sure you'll never be able to kick that one down and then you'll be screwed. So do it! If you think you're so strong, prove it!"

"Rye, let me in!" Peeta demanded, giving an even louder, more persistent knock. "Just a few minutes is all I ask. Look, I don't ask to come into your room that much, so I'm sure you can allow to let me in for just a few minutes."

"Nope," Rye retorted.

"Yes you can!"

"No one's home! Don't leave a message. Come back never."

Peeta sighed in vexation and gave a few more knocks.

"Go away, you freak! Go bug Luchi. Spend some quality time with him. You guys really don't hang out enough."

"I have no reason to bother him and he's not even home right now. Besides, he's not the one that went and ruined my day by spilling all my secrets." Peeta paused only briefly before adding resolutely, "I'm not asking you again Rye. Let me in."

"No!"

"Rye, I'm telling you to let me in!" ordered Peeta strictly. He was met with momentary silence and he wondered if his brother was finally deciding to block out his presence.

"Hate you," Rye muttered under his breath.

With a loud and aggravated sigh, he slowly crawled off his bed. He got to his feet, yanked the door open and just as hurriedly made his way back onto his bed to get as far away as he could from Peeta. He shut his laptop, put the headphones on top and sat down with his arms crossed, as if wanting to get the whole dilemma over with as quickly as possible. He didn't even give Peeta so much as a simple glance. It was like he thought of his little brother as nothing but a fly on the wall and him being in his room was a total waste of time.

"Let me guess," groused Rye, putting his arms lazily behind his head. "You think my room's a total catastrophe and that I should be cleaning it up."

Peeta gave a small shrug and told him, "What you do with your room is your business. I can't see how you find anything with all these clothes on the floor, but it's your room, not mine."

"Because your room's so bloody perfect," taunted Rye, tracing patterns on his mountain of blankets. "Clothes put away, garbage in the trash, books on the shelves, bed's always made. Must be nice being Mr. Perfect. Perfection, perfection, perfection."

Peeta ignored his brother and reminded himself why he'd wanted to come talk to this guy in the first place. It wasn't to ramble on about how messy or clean one's room was, and it wasn't to argue back and forth about nothing at all. He had a reason for wanting to pay his brother a visit and it wasn't to engage in gibberish discussion.

"So," Peeta began, taking a seat at the end of Rye's bed. "Happy with what you achieved today?"

Rye hooted and replied in amusement, "Hell yeah! Nothing better than seeing my wuss of a brother squirm. I have to say, I definitely outdid myself with that one. Didn't even take me that long to figure out how to make a fool out of ya either. I just figured I'd wait till you and Everdeen were together, and then go and spill all your silly little secrets of love to her. Pretty impressive, eh? I'd say I hit the jackpot...wouldn't you?"

Peeta's response was to say nothing.

"Man, did you see her face?" cackled Rye, enjoying the memory. "And when I told her you watched her going home every day, it was like _holy_ shit! Hah! She probably thinks you're some kind of freakin' stalker now, watching her going home every single day with your beady little eyes on her like some kind of creep. Nice, Peeta. Way to go and screw that one up real good. You think she's gonna get the hots for a stalker? You think you would have been smart enough to realize that watching people day after day isn't exactly romantic. But you're too stupid to know that, so of course you'd think the opposite. You don't know a thing about romance but you know a whole lot about stalking."

With an exaggerated shake of his head, Rye added in mock sympathy, "Poor Peeta..."

There was a temporary pause, then Peeta said flatly, "Do you even know much I—"

"What? Love her?" jeered Rye in derision. "Well, duh! The whole _freakin'_ world knows Peeta! Everyone at school knows. Even the teachers know! You've only talked about her a gazillion times in the past ten years. Better question is who doesn't know?"

"You've no idea what she means to me," Peeta went on, his voice softening. "I've loved her since I was five and—"

"Blah, blah, blah!" scorned Rye. "And I've never loved any other girl and she's always been the one and...no need to go on, Peeta! I know your sad little story. I've known all that as long as you've been crushing on her. What I'm dying to know is what she know thinks of you. Are you still the same guy she saw in your first day of art or does she now see you as a guy who's a coward, stalker and not worth her time?"

Peeta said nothing to this. He lowered his gaze to the floor and instantly started thinking about Katniss. He wished he had better control of his mind, but when his head went to another place and that place just happened to have Katniss there, he was a goner. The same, overriding questions that had been sitting in his mind for hours came back to him. What was she doing right now? What did she now think of him? Did she ever want to speak to him again? Was there no chance at reconstructing the pieces of the friendship they'd had blossoming between them?

"Too bad though," Rye went on with mock sympathy. "That you'll _never_ get to do all those things I bet you've dreamedof doing to Everdeen. Poor old Prince Charming can't have the girl of his dreams. And don't try and hide it from me. I'm not stupid. I know what you wanted to do to her. It ain't a secret, you know. I see it in your eyes and all over your face. The way you look at her. Oh hell, even a total stranger would know what's on your sneaky, filthy little mind."

Peeta turned his head and gave Rye a confused look. All he could think was: _what are you talking about?_ Most of the time, pretty much anything that came out of Rye's mouth was gibberish and nonsense anyway. Wanting to sit down and have a mature conversation with him was the same as asking a pig to sprout wings and fly – it simply wouldn't happen. He wasn't the kind of person that was ever taken seriously, considering that he laughed at the most ridiculous things and hardly ever acted his age. What he'd said just now though got Peeta believing he was once again about to be faced with another one of his brother's assaults. Not physically, but verbally.

Rye grabbed one of his pillows, gave Peeta a teasing smirk and shoved the pillow into his face as he began fondling and running his hands along the soft, cushiony material. He made loud kissing noises as he continued to caress the pillow as one would to a person. But Rye being Rye, he had to take things to the extreme which meant exaggerating and getting carried away. He moaned and cried far louder than what was necessary but this came as no surprise to Peeta. He knew Rye would do all he could to make his younger brother feel as awkward and uncomfortable as possible.

" _Katniss_ ," he whispered fervently between kisses. "Uhhh...so good."

Peeta gave Rye a disgusted look and putting as much authority as he could into his voice, commanded, " _Stop_."

There was only one thing Peeta was feeling right then and it wasn't awkward – it was annoyed. What he'd wanted was to have a simple, serious discussion with Rye about what he'd done that day, but that was asking for the impossible. Having a mature conversation with his brother just wasn't going to happen now or anytime soon, not with how childishly Rye behaved. Why he couldn't behave normally for even a few minutes was beyond Peeta. He never thought it was asking for much but based on how Rye was acting, maybe it was.

With his eyes closed, Rye then began letting out satisfied moans as if he was receiving incredible pleasure. Not once did he stop caressing the pillow with the greatest of passion and positioning it once more on his face, he moaned out in intensifying bliss, "Oh **,** _Katniss!_ Oh, _god!"_

He then gave Peeta another one of his smug smirks and tittered, "She ain't ever gonna be yours now."

That was it. Hearing those words and watching that smirk grow on his brother's face had made Peeta realize he couldn't just stand there and wait. Time was ticking and it wouldn't do him any good to stand there and hope Rye would quit acting like his maddening self. Of course he'd go on acting foolishly for hours if time would allow it, which meant he'd never make the point he wanted to make. He'd simply be forced to stand there and listen to his brother's loud moans and watch him make out with a pillow.

Above all though, Peeta had had enough. He'd been patient enough with his older brother but as he knew, one could only remain patient for so long.

He reached over, snatched the wet pillow from his childish brother and threw it across the room where it landed in a massive heap of clothes. It was there with dirty shirts, shorts, sweaters, boxers and even socks that could have been there for days. He shot Rye an irritated look that said he was tired of his brother's ridiculous behaviour. He wanted to make it very clear that he wasn't there to fool around but rather, was there for a reason.

"When are you gonna learn to _grow up_?" asked Peeta seriously, not letting his anger erupt. He was upset with Rye in more ways than one but he wasn't going to let that interfere with what he had planned for the guy's punishment. He was able to control his emotions quite easily unlike his mother who was never capable of boggling it up inside. "You think it's funny going around teasing and making a fool out of me? How would you like it if I did that to _you_? Just put yourself in my shoes and imagine how you'd like to be embarrassed and left humiliated. How would you like that?"

"Ah, but you wouldn't," sneered Rye and let out an amused laugh. "You're too good to sink to that level; you're too perfect. Perfect Peeta won't do any wrong, not even to his ass of a brother. You can stand there all day if you want and go on rambling but you'd never make me squirm. You might want to but wanting and doing are two different things. You'd want to...but you'd never be able to because you just don't have it in you."

Peeta wanted to argue and convince Rye he was wrong, but his brother was right. Peeta wasn't the sort of person that went around seeking revenge and doing all he could to make one's life miserable, not like Rye. No, the two lived opposite lives. Where Peeta was friendly, approachable and would never have tried to seek vengeance on his brother, his Rye would have in a heartbeat.

"I'm gettin' some brownies," announced Rye hungrily. He jumped off his bed, then stopped at the doorway and looked back at Peeta and threw in with a patronizing sneer, "Oh, you want some too? Go get them yourself then loser, if you're not too lazy to walk down the hall and find them. For all you know, I've got them in hidden in a secret place you'll never find. Why don't you just sit there and starve yourself while you mourn the loss of your vanished would-have-been-my-potential-girlfriend?"

Rye stomped out the room and hurried his hungry self down the hall to the kitchen where he hoped to find a pan of homemade brownies waiting for him. Peeta's mind wasn't on food, though. He was so furious at his brother that he sat on the end of the bed for a solid minute before he finally snapped out of it. However, he wasn't angry to the point where he'd land a punch to his brother's face no matter how much he despised and hated the weasel. All he wanted was to find a way to get back at him and let him know just how seriously he'd upset him by revealing to Katniss all the secrets of his love-sick brother. He had an idea of how he wanted to go about accomplishing that; what he wasn't sure of was what exactly he'd do to get that point across to Rye.

Then he saw it.

It had been staring him in the face ever since he'd stepped foot into Rye's room and it was so simple that he was surprised he hadn't thought of it sooner. Resting on his bedside dresser was a small tin can that Peeta knew exactly what was used for. Rye was a huge baseball fan and had been so since he was a kid and like so many other fans, was an avid collector of baseball cards. Every card he bought online or came across he'd tuck safely away to become part of his ultimate stash. But this box only held his most valued and special cards. All the other ones – the less valued and special ones – were tucked away somewhere on a shelf in his mess of a closet. Those were the ones that were unimportant and could be replaced but theseparticular ones held a lot more meaning to Rye as all of these cards had been signed and autographed by players themselves. Though he wasn't a collector of cards himself, he figured having them autographed must have been pretty exciting, especially if you were as devoted of a fan as his older brother.

Peeta took hold of the small box and placed it on Rye's bed. He opened the lid and dropped it next to the box and then looked inside to see six different cards – six _special_ cards. On each of them were the names of the players who'd signed them – Brock Jafeer, Norgan Fitsburgh, Codrick Tom, Pierce Orvagall, Jett Lincer and Darius Slate. All were proud members of the District Twelve Silvers and all had personally taken the time to autograph cards for their dedicated fan, Rye Mellark. Peeta could just picture the look of sheer horror on Rye's face if anything should ever happen to his beloved cards. It would mirror the sheer horror in Peeta's heart as he was forced to sit and listen to his big-mouthed brother reveal everything about his younger brother's past to the girl he cared so much about. He'd be experiencing just what Peeta had which were the feelings of anguish and frustration.

 _You're not getting away that easy, Rye_ , thought Peeta, who reached in and picked up one of the cards. It was the one Jett Lincer had signed, Rye's favourite guy on the team. _You gave me the most embarrassing time of my life today. What goes around comes around and Rye...it's come right back to_ _you_ _. Hopefully once this is done, you'll understand just how bad I'm hurting and leave me alone. I'd rather not have to do this but you're giving me no choice. I just can't let you get away with what happened today, so it's gotta be done. You have to be given a taste of your own medicine._

As he held the card in his hand, he let his mind drift back to what felt like a lifetime ago, but was really only a few hours ago during lunch. He recalled the first secret Rye had told Katniss and as it returned to his mind, it was like the whole event was repeating itself. The image of him and Katniss were reappearing more clearly than ever before.

He could hear Rye's voice saying, " _He's had the biggest, deepest crush on you since he was five years old. He'd say over and over, 'She's my one true love!' Man, he's stupid crazy about you!_ _'_ "

 _R-i-i-i-i-p!_ One baseball card out of six was now officially gone.

The voice went on, " _He talks about you all the time!_ " No sooner had the voice spoken than card number two was ripped to pieces.

Then came the next secret as the voice exclaimed, _"Sketches pictures of you!_ " A third card was now leaving the pile to meet the same fate as the others.

The fourth secret and a fourth card soon clashed as the voice continued, " _Decorates cookies and puts your name on them!_ " This card had now joined the other three.

The amusement in the voice was all too familiar as it proclaimed, " _He even has dreams about you! Every night it's the same – dreams about Katniss Everdeen_ _._ " With the fifth secret came the fifth card, which was torn and ripped into worthless pieces. All but one untouched card remained in the now lonely box.

Now came the sixth and final secret, and the voice that said, " _That's not all of it though. Since you were kids, he's watched you walk home every day. Yeah...every day. Not kidding either. There wouldn't be a day that went by where his little eyes wouldn't be staring right at you and they wouldn't leave you till you were far out of sight._ "

Then came Rye's final statement as he explained, " _Just thought I'd tell you since Peeta never would have_." But by this point, the final card had been reduced to nothing but shreds.

In less than a minute Peeta had managed to tear up six cards and Rye hadn't even returned from the kitchen yet. Peeta knew the guy too well and figured he was probably rummaging through the drawers, drawers and cabinets in the hopes of snatching up more than just a couple of brownies. Two or three wouldn't have been enough to satisfy his overly ravenous gut. If Rye said he wanted one thing, then what he was really saying was that he'd make a pig out of himself and grab as much food as he could and then head back to his area of solitude.

It had been about five minutes by the time Rye came back. He strolled into his room with a huge, ambitious smile on his face while carrying a plate filled with brownies, chips and a monster-size piece of chocolate cake coated with so much frosting that Peeta was sure the guy would get sick. How he could wolf down that much sugar and fat and not throw up was beyond him. His eyes widened and grew to the size of golf balls at the sight of this excessively large snack, but it came as no surprise to him to see such a grand feast. In all the years Peeta had known Rye, he never recalled ever having seen the guy pick up an apple or _anything_ healthy for that matter. Where most people's eating habits included fruits and vegetables, Rye's was just the opposite. All he cared about was junk, junk and more junk – chocolate in particular. It had been like that for several years and Peeta was pretty convinced that his ways of eating wouldn't be changing anytime soon, nor would his spiteful behaviour. Without caring what others thought, his diet was one that was mostly comprised of brownies which meant his diet was chiefly composed of unhealthy amounts of sugar, fats and unnecessary calories.

He put the plate on his bedside dresser and then leaped up onto his bed where he leaned over and helped himself to a brownie. He gave Peeta a sneer before taking a huge bite, but Peeta's only reaction was to stare at him calmly. Of course the guy would chew with his mouth open which again came to no surprise to Peeta as not once in a very long time had Rye ever chewed with his mouth closed. He then held out Rye's tin box and dropped it next to him without saying a word.

"You been looking at my cards?" he asked suspiciously, his mouth filled with the gooey chocolate. He then let out a belch so loud that Peeta couldn't believe such a sound had come out of his mouth, but he just went on staring at his brother with a calm expression.

"Maybe," said Peeta with a shrug. "Why don't you open it and see?"

"Why don't you just knock it off and quit with the games?" spat Rye, licking his chocolate-covered lips. "Just answer my question: were you looking at my cards?"

Again, Peeta gave a shrug and repeated coolly, "Open it and see."

"What's your friggen problem?" he snapped, eyeing him warily. "Just answer the goddam question! The sooner you answer my question the sooner you can get the hell out of my room."

To his brother's annoyance, Peeta suggested for the third time, "Open it and see."

Rye – who was obviously piqued and wanting only to worry about stuffing his face with sweets – rolled his eyes as if it were the last thing he wanted to do and grabbed hold of the box. He opened up the lid and when his eyes saw what was at the bottom he clenched his teeth and shook his head. He tightened his hold on the box and then without warning, threw it straight at Peeta, who saw it coming and managed to step out of the way. The box flew right across the room where it landed against the wall before crashing to the ground. It was clear that Rye had wanted to seriously hurt Peeta with that tin box but his brother had unfortunately been able to dodge it just in time. Now all he could do was give him a hard time about what he'd done using one of the best things he had, and that was his loud and obnoxious mouth. If all else failed, he could always rely on his ability to verbally attack his brother with relentless slurs.

"They're gone!" he snarled, flashing Peeta an irritated look. "Where'd you put 'em? Tell me where they're at or I swear I'll beat you to a pulp!"

"No, you won't," murmured Peeta, and there was a perceptible certainty revealed in his argument.

"No?" Rye responded, knitting his brows in increasing aggravation. "So that's what you think?"

"I don't think, I know," came the unwavering rejoinder.

"Well, aren't we brazen all of a sudden," snickered his brother. "You that sure of that, huh?" Lifting the corners of his stained lips upward, he casually swung one leg in front of the other and grunted. With a phony chortle, he calmly demanded, "And why's that?"

That was when Peeta openly provided the reasoning for his confident comeback.

"You've never done a thing to physically hurt me," he boldly contended, locking his eyes unflinchingly on Rye's. "Dozens of times you've said you'll punch me in the gut, or kick me in the knees but all those times, I wasn't punched or kicked once. You'd said you would, but you didn't. You'd told me you'd land a blow to my head or nail me in the back but all you did was leave. Even when you'd threatened to clobber me till it hurt, you didn't lay a finger on me and even today, Rye...you still haven't hurt me. The most you've ever done is give me a shove but still, it was never intended to have me fall and bruise myself."

"And what makes you think that, moron?" bickered Rye, redirecting his steely gaze to Peeta's.

"I never got hurt," stated Peeta with authentic, absolute conviction.

"That's bull shit," squabbled Rye. Instantaneously, he averted his interest to a wisp of dust that was dangling from the ceiling overhead.

"It's not, and you know that," his younger brother staunchly informed him. "Otherwise what I'm saying wouldn't contradict with what you're trying to claim to be true."

Peeta gave an innocent, yet slightly mischievous smile as he pulled his hand out from behind his back to reveal the remains of the six cards resting in the palm of his hand. He held his arms out over his brother's bed, opened his hands and let the tiny, worthless pieces flutter onto the bed. Like leaves falling from a tree, they left his hand only to make their way onto the bed where they settled into a small pile. Rye watched with no expression but as Peeta observed him more closely, he saw his hands start trembling out of sheer resentment.

Rye's mouth dropped and his eyes widened as he let out a single, shocked, " _What?_ " The shock immediately transformed into acrimony as he hissed, "You asshole!"

He then got up and grabbed hold of Peeta as he slammed him into the wall, putting his face so close to his brother's that their noses were almost touching. Peeta could feel the spittle from Rye's mouth landing on his face but no matter how enraged his brother was, he wasn't going to look away. He locked eyes with his brother and held his steely gaze as long as need be, wanting Rye to know just how serious he was about the whole situation. If he decided to land a punch to his face, then so be it. But he wasn't letting his brother get away with what he'd done during lunch, and he definitely wasn't leaving till he'd said what he needed to say. It made no difference whether Rye wanted to hear it or not either. Peeta refused to leave without letting him know how he felt.

"You…you ruined them!" he seethed, holding Peeta in place. He might not have possessed the same level of strength as his brother, but that didn't mean his easily triggered temper wouldn't serve as a kind of strength for him. "What's your problem? You think it's funny to go and ruin my stuff! What the hell's with you? Do you have any idea how long I've had those? Who gives you permission to come into my room and trash my stuff anyway? I've had that collection for years and now it's...it's ruined!"

Peeta remained calm and in control as he contended, "I did what I did because of what _you_ did to me! I don't care if you thought it was funny, Rye. You completely humiliated me and I don't even know if I'll be able to fix this. It's your fault that I might never get Katniss to like me and trust me. If you hadn't come along and said all that, I might have had a chance to tell her myself and maybe she would have liked me back but that's all ruined now thanks to you. You told her all the things I wasn't ready for her to hear yet and because of that, I'll never know if she feels the same."

"You're pathetic," snorted Rye with a shake of his head. "When are you gonna smarten up and realize she's _not_ into you? You wasted eleven whole years thinking she'd be into you and guess what loser? She's still not into you! When are you just gonna accept that? You never had a chance with that chick from the start, so why bother waste your time on her? Time to pack up your bags and move on."

"I'll never give up on her," said Peeta firmly, but the quiver in his voice was unmistakable. "She...she's too important to me."

"You're hilarious!" Rye exclaimed in amusement. "Okay, loser! If she's so important to you, then why didn't you just go and tell her that years ago, huh? Why did you just let all those years slip away? And guess what? If I hadn't have gone and told her all that, she'd never find out you drool over her because you'd still never go and tell her. And why? Because you're a hopeless coward who can't even open his freakin' mouth. You're a hopeless romantic who spends more time daydreaming than doing and if not for me, you'd still be living in those freakish, messed-up fantasies."

Peeta continued staring at his brother while remaining calm and composed, but Rye's words were starting to slither their way into his mind. It wasn't often he let Rye's words get to him but considering all that had happened earlier that day, it was difficult not to.

"I'm not a coward," said Peeta quietly. "I just...wanted to wait for the right moment."

"There is no right moment, loser!" shouted Rye. "All you had to do was tell her you wanted her but you couldn't even do that. Sorry to say, but your chance is gone. Well, I actually don't give a dam but you know what I mean. I don't gotta spell it out for ya."

Refusing to believe that his brother's words were true, he said quietly, "No, there is a right moment. But you stole it from me. I'll never get that moment back now."

"You're hilarious," declared Rye with an arrogant leer. "Hilarious, you know that?"

In a mocking tone, Rye then said, "I love you, Katniss! I spend all my time dreaming about you and I just think the world of you, but I'm so much of a coward and I can't tell you myself, so I have to let my big brother tell you for me. I'm so shy and such a loser and I'm so scared that you'll never love me! And I can't live without you because I just love you so goddam much! Oh, what'll I do without you? You're my whole life even though we've never even talked!"

Peeta glared at his brother while rolling the words around in his head. He then struggled to break free of his grasp and after a moment of doing so, he'd shoved him away. Peeta was done trying to get through to this creep. Rye hadn't understood Peeta in what felt like forever, and by his brother's calculations, he never would. He'd done what he had to do to get back at Rye and give him the punishment he deserved, but he had the grim feeling his efforts had been for nothing. His brother wouldn't get the message and quit tormenting Peeta, or at least try and change his ways. He'd just keep doing what he'd been doing year after year and that was doing whatever he could to pick on and humiliate Peeta.

That much Peeta was certain of, but it had never been made clear to Peeta why his brother was the way he was. It was the one question that had bugged Peeta for so many years and still to that day he hadn't the slightest clue what made Rye the horrid brat he was.

"Why are you like this, Rye?" asked Peeta quietly. He hadn't intended to redirect their conversation and focus instead on his brother's behaviour, but the words had slipped out of his mouth. _I just wish if there was a reason, you'd tell me. I'd be there for you and try to help you, but it doesn't seem like there's a reason why you're like this. Maybe it is who you are, but I don't get why you like acting like this? How could someone enjoy being that kind of person?_

"Like what, Peeta?" he asked, sounding bored. Giving a dramatically loud sigh, he went on condescendingly, "Better than you in every possible way? Smarter? Hotter? Cooler? Superior at everything and anything?"

By now, Rye had jumped back onto his bed and was stuffing himself silly with brownie after brownie. One by one he dropped them greedily into his mouth and swallowed them before he'd even finished fully chewing them. He didn't care so much now that Peeta was in his room as there was no fixing what he'd done to his cards. So he did the only thing he knew would cheer him up and that was to eat like a pig and eat till he could devour no more.

"You know what I mean," said Peeta patiently.

Right then, he wasn't aiming to use a firm and strict kind of voice, not the kind a parent would use to scold their child. He wasn't even thinking anymore about the embarrassment he'd been forced to endure at lunch. His mind had now shifted from that particular moment and was now concerning itself with another dilemma and it was one that had stayed with him for years.

Rye gave an exaggerated yawn and said, "No, I don't actually. Do the world a favour and be more specific. Let's pretend I'm some clueless idiot and I need you to explain crap to me. So go on...start rambling. Get on with it."

"Alright," said Peeta, and paused only shortly before going on. "Why do you treat me like crap? Why do you call me names, beat me up and act like such a jerk? I just never understood why you were like that. I know brothers argue and fight and get on each other's nerves, but that's not what you and I are like. You treat me like I'm the worst person on the planet and you act like it's some kind of game. It just doesn't make sense to me! I've tried to make some sense out of it, but I just kept coming up empty. Nothing about the way you treat me makes even a bit of sense. It's...it's just not normal, Rye!"

Rye chuckled under his breath and spat, "Why do even bother ask? You already know why – because you're a freak! A loser! A nobody! A guy like you deserves to be spit on, beat up and called every name in the book. Thought you knew that already. Too bad you obviously didn't and you still don't!"

"No one deserves to have that done to them, Rye," Peeta pointed out. "How can you say that?"

"Because it's true!" scoffed Rye, stuffing yet another brownie into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed, gave a sigh of contentment and then went on, "You might not think that but that's because you're such a goody two shoes. You're so nice and perfect that of course you'd think that. But you're not the amazing guy of perfection you claim to be. You're only a—"

"I don't think that at all," Peeta argued, still managing to remain calm. "When have I ever said I was perfect in any way? Or amazing? No one's perfect, Rye."

"Oh trust me," said Rye with a snarl, glaring at his brother in detest. "You think so highly of yourself. You think you're this precious little guy who can get whatever he wants. But you know what, bro? You're just the lame, hopeless little dreamer Mom and I both know you are. You ain't going anywhere in life. Same with Katniss. You'll never get her back, not after what I did."

Peeta watched his brother and asked while feeling more lost than ever before, "You didn't answer my question, Rye."

"Maybe I don't want to," yawned Rye, giving his brother the finger.

Peeta exhaled deeply and pleaded, "Can you at least answer one question? Why do you treat me like this? What have I ever done to you over the years to make you hate me so much? If I ever said something to offend you or make you upset, then I'd like to know! If there ever was something I did or said to you, then please tell me! I just want to know why you treat me so bad."

Rye smiled, put his hands behind his head and said bluntly, "I enjoy it. That's why." He then glanced over at Peeta, chuckled and asked, "How's that, baker? That answer your question?"

"How can you enjoy doing that though?" asked Peeta softly, trying hard to find a way into his brother's mind and find out if Rye really was telling him the truth.

That, however, was simply impossible which meant he'd never know all there was to know about him and he'd forever remain a complex, unsolved mystery. One thing he knew for sure though: the chances of Rye ever changing were all but slim. If how he'd been acting for all these years was any indication of the person he'd be in a few years time, then he'd be exactly the same. Age would make no difference as he'd still be the same nasty and unpleasant person, only older and just as unbearable.

Rye stuck out his tongue, glared at him momentarily before retorting, "Because it's fun. Happy now?"

"How can that be fun?" his brother challenged, befuddled.

"Because you never fight back, and you're so easy to pick on," said Rye with a sneer. "You'll never punch me in the head or shove me around or do anything. You're not a fighter like me. You're just a weak little guy who can't even win a fight with his older bro. You don't even try! You just let me throw you around and do whatever the heck I want and yet still you don't even bother fight back."

"Because I don't want to fight back," said Peeta frankly. A hint of exhaustion was rapidly creeping into his voice. "I don't want to fight you, Rye. And I wish you didn't want to fight me either. I just don't understand why you want to fight with me in the first place. Why can't we just get along?"

"Oh, but I do wanna fight you," asserted Rye with an unnecessarily, repulsively loud snort. "You might not wanna fight me but I sure wanna fight you. If you don't already know, stomping over you is the highlight of my day."

 _He'll never make this easy_ , thought Peeta, feeling defeated. When he thought back to all the other times he'd tried finding out more about his brother, he realized that with each attempt, he'd walked out just as baffled. All of his efforts had ended only in failures and even now he was no closer to finding success. _I don't get it though. I just want to help him and he treats me like I'm the enemy! Why? Who knows? Maybe this really is Rye and I just can't accept that anyone could live their life treating others so badly._

Peeta felt like giving up, but asked in a last, feeble attempt to break through the barrier in his brother's mind, "There's gotta be more to you, Rye. And I don't believe you truly enjoy picking on me and treating me like crap. That's not something people would take pleasure in doing."

"It is though!" his brother snarled indignantly, and took a threatening step towards Peeta. Peeta hadn't expected that from Rye, who'd been so busy devouring his plate of brownies. "What about that don't you get? You're just some perfect, can-do-no-wrong freak who likes baking, painting, going and ripping up his brother's baseball cards and yet you can't even tell Katniss how you feel about her!"

"I still don't believe that," Peeta shot back incredulously, his voice hardly audible.

"Believe it," growled Rye in exasperation. "Now why don't you be a good little boy and shut the hell up or I'll give you something to cry about. You want your teeth knocked out? Eyes knocked out of their sockets? Nose broken? Then put a lid on it."

Of all the questions racing through Peeta's mind, there was only one he'd give anything to receive an answer to, and that was why his brother was such an ass. Deep down, he felt more than sure what the answer to his question was – and that was that Rye Mellark was just a nasty trouble-making pest that got enjoyment out of treating his little brother like trash and calling him every name he could come up with.

The two held eye contact for a long moment. Peeta swore Rye's eyes were on fire and he felt his brother would lash out at him any second. He prepared himself just in case and as he stood there waiting for Rye's hands to grab hold of him and shove him against the wall, his brother turned and walked back to his bed. Not expecting this, he stared at Rye in confusion. Usually, Rye would have seized every chance at pushing his little brother around. Why hadn't he done so?

Peeta didn't put much thought into it. He figured Rye was most likely tired, bored and sick of dealing with Peeta and just wanted to flop back onto his bed and carry on eating junk. This proved all but true when Rye got himself comfortable, dropped a brownie into his mouth and began chewing. He wasn't even looking at Peeta anymore. His eyes were shut, his hands were once more behind his head and his feet were hanging lazily over the end of the bed.

Peeta was all set to leave. It was clear Rye had gotten over the shock of seeing his baseball cards destroyed, and was now returning to occupying himself with food. He'd also ignored everything Peeta had said about what he'd revealed to Katniss but despite this, Peeta felt no regrets at having tried. There was no reason for him to stay there any longer. He'd tried getting answers to his countless questions but as always, Rye only cooperated by shoving yet more insults onto his shoulders.

He was about to turn and make his way out the door and it was like some unknown force in his mind just wouldn't let him. He couldn't make sense of it. The door was right in front of him and all he had to do was walk through and go back to his own room, but something had stopped him. As for Rye, he only stared at Peeta out of the corner of his eye with a look that was filled with resentment and confusion. He'd been about to help himself to another delicious brownie when the sight of Peeta standing in front of his door had distracted him.

After having shifted his eyes from the floor to his brother, he noticed something in Rye's eyes he hardly ever caught sight of. It was something he'd rarely seen in the sixteen years he'd been living there. He'd made out pretty much everything in his brother's eyes – antipathy, bitterness, boredom, amusement, slyness and arrogance – but not this. This was new territory and when he'd first noticed it, he'd wondered if he'd just been seeing things or if his mind had been playing tricks on him.

It wasn't.

What he was seeing in his older brother's eyes was...fear. It wasn't obvious at first but the longer he went on staring, the more Peeta was convinced that it was fear and only fear. It might not have been a lot of it, but there was no denying that Rye's eyes were filling with worry.

As well as observing this, he'd remembered something. It was like his mind had clicked into a different mode and things were now becoming clearer. It was the fear in Rye's eyes and recalling something that had occurred not that long ago that had caused him to change his mind and stay in his brother's room.

"Wait," said Peeta, and turned to face Rye. His brother raised a brow, rolled his eyes and tapped his fingers on the bed impatiently.

"What?" he scowled in disdain.

Peeta hesitated for all but a second before announcing wistfully, "I just remembered something."

"Let me guess," teased Rye with a roll of his eyes. "Forgot your homework at school and you're scared you're gonna be in shit tomorrow? You should be. Those teachers will kill you ten times over if your kiddie little homework ain't finished."

"No," affirmed Peeta gravely. "It's about you."

"Oh?" gasped Rye, pretending to sound overly shocked. "And what about me did you remember? Go on, Peeta. Tell me because I'm dying to hear! Go on and make a big story about it! And make it good or I'll knock your brain out."

Peeta gave Rye a glum, concerned look and allowing his mind to drift back to only a few days ago, pronounced quietly, "It was a few days ago. It was a Wednesday night; I remember. We'd just finished eating supper and I was heading up to my room to get started on my math. There was an in-class quiz the next day and I wanted to get in some last minute studying. So I was going to my room and before I had a chance to get out my notes, I heard someone. I didn't think anything of it at first; I figured it was just nothing. But then I heard it again and I knew it was something. So I left my room, went out in the hall and heard it louder out there. It didn't take me long to figure out where it was coming from."

Rye didn't interrupt or get up to punch his brother in the face. He only went on glaring at him and for whatever reason, he wasn't entirely sure why he hadn't already lunged at Peeta. Normally he'd already be shoving him against a wall, and that would be followed by him spitting in his brother's face and landing a punch to his face. This time, however, he wasn't moving.

"Where?" he asked in frustration.

"It was coming from your room, Rye," Peeta stated, staring his brother squarely in the eye. "It took me a minute to know that for sure because you're always so quiet in your room. Aside from your loud music, you're pretty much silent. But you weren't silent that night. It wasn't till I walked up to your room and put my head next to your door and listened...that I heard you. Any other time I'd expect to hear you on the phone, mumbling to yourself or laughing at something. You weren't doing any of those things."

Rye clenched his teeth, sniffed and hissed, "No? Then what was I doing?"

Peeta lowered his head and said in a voice that was barely discernible, "You were crying."

Rye blinked as if the words were throwing him off balance. He blinked again, and shot Peeta a stunned, infuriated look as if he refused to take in what his brother was telling him. He was so used to feeling superior to his younger brother that what he was now experiencing left him uncomfortable and shaken. He wasn't used to feeling shaken, but he was in no way going to let Peeta go on believing that was how he was indeed feeling.

"I wasn't!" he snarled in a brusque, vicious tone and it was like his entire body might explode out of sheer infuriation.

"But you were, Rye," said Peeta softly, not raising his voice. "I heard you clear as day. It's not hard to tell when someone's upset. And you were definitely upset about something. You went on crying for almost half an hour. I would have come in and talked to you and seen if there was anything I could do but I...I knew you'd just lock your door and push me out. I really wanted to come in and talk to you but I knew you'd want nothing to do with that. It was like that night after the first day of school. You had your bedroom light on and I came in to see why you were still up and when I saw you, you...you were just sitting there, Rye. You were staring out your window and I swear it was like you weren't even there. I knew from the look you gave me that you didn't want me in your room so when I heard you crying, I knew you'd just shove me out."

"What the hell were you doing spying on me?" Rye shouted, and he seriously thought the roof over his head might come crashing down. He didn't like where this conversation was heading, and what he wanted more than anything was for Peeta to drop it altogether. "You little brat! You have no right to go spying on me like that! Who gave you the permission to go spying on every little thing I do because I sure as hell didn't!"

"I wasn't spying," insisted Peeta quickly. "I was just worried. I didn't know who or what got you upset but I was concerned, and just wanted to make sure you didn't get any worse. That's all. You can't expect me to go on pretending like I don't care Rye because I do! Maybe you don't think it bothers me that I heard you crying but it does. I'd hate to think something's upsetting you and if you are worried or troubled about something...I really wish you'd tell me."

"Anything else you'd like to share with me, pest?" asked Rye with an irritable tone. He then rolled over onto his side and refocused his attention to the blank, white wall in front of him. _Ignore him. Just wish for him to leave and he will. Pretend he's not there._

"I wanna help you, Rye!" declared Peeta with visible empathy. "I don't want us to go on acting like enemies. We're brothers. I just wanna help you with whatever it is you're dealing with. You don't have to put up a wall between us. If there's anyone in the world you can turn to and trust Rye...it's me. I swear you can trust me with anything. If you need help with anything, I'll help you and—"

"I don't need any help!" yelled Rye, and right then he really didn't care if the whole world heard him. All he wanted was peace, quiet and to be unbothered for the rest of the night. "Because there's nothing I'm dealing with. Why can't you just leave me alone! Go be a pain somewhere else. Better yet, why don't you go bug Mom and let her shut you up!"

"There's more."

Rye rolled his eyes, sighed loudly and grumbled, "Whatever."

"There was one night I was coming up from downstairs and I heard you in your room. I tried to make out what you were saying, but I couldn't really tell. All I could hear was grumbling and then not long after that I heard a crashing noise. It sounded like glass shattering; like maybe a lamp had broken."

No response came from Rye.

"You threw that lamp across the room, didn't you?" asked Peeta, his voice still as hushed as ever.

Still no reply from his brother.

From the side pocket of his book bag, Peeta heard an unmistakable beeping sound that he assumed was coming from Rye's phone. For whatever reason it was beeping, Rye must not have cared as he didn't even bother to check to see if someone had messaged him. Aside him that, the room was silent and the only person speaking right then was Peeta. His older brother still hadn't opened his mouth to utter a word. Either he knew exactly what he wanted to say and just didn't want to, or he truly was at a loss of words and hadn't the slightest idea of what to say.

Instantly, Peeta knew his brother had indeed thrown the lamp across the room and by doing so, had shattered it into a hundred pieces. If he hadn't, he would have cut his brother short by shouting that he'd done no such thing but the fact that he'd remained silent was all the proof he needed. He knew that Rye had broken the lamp and though Rye wasn't actually admitting to having hurled it across the room, his silence was an answer in itself.

"Another time I heard you muttering 'why'," said Peeta, staring at the floor. "You kept saying it over and over. You never said anything else. You just kept on repeating that same word, over and over."

No reaction from Rye.

"One night I heard you kicking the wall," said Peeta softly. "You weren't saying anything. I just heard you kicking and punching the wall over and over."

No words from his brother. It was like Rye was no longer in the room and was instead, far off in some other realm that Peeta and no one else had any idea about.

"There's one another time I remember," Peeta went on, and he too felt like he was now in some other realm. It was one that was filled with a sense of lonesomeness and uncertainty. "I know I just mentioned it but I don't think I'm ever gonna forget it. I opened your door, peeked in to see if you were there, and you were. You were sitting on the bed with your back to me and you were facing the window and staring outside and it was like you weren't even there. You weren't talking, moving...it didn't even seem like you were breathing. I swear, Rye, I've never seen you act like that. You just sat there staring out your window for a few minutes at least and I wanted to walk in and talk to you but I knew you'd just push me out and lock the door on me. But the way you just sat there so still like you weren't even alive it...it scared me, Rye. I don't know how long you were sitting there but...but it must have been for a while. Then there was another time I looked into your room and you were sitting on your bed again and your phone started ringing, but you didn't answer it, and you didn't even turn your head to look at it. It was like you couldn't hear it ringing. Whoever it was called again, and you still didn't answer. It's like what just happened. I heard your phone beeping but you didn't even bother check to see who texted you, or why it was beeping."

Peeta sighed quietly and said in a pleading tone, "I just know there's more to you, Rye. There has to be. This can't be who you really are. I know you say you like beating me up and giving me grief but I just don't buy it. Nothing you say to me makes sense because why did I catch you all those times crying or just sitting on your bed staring out your window? I know you won't tell me what that all means but I wish you would because I'd really like to help. Whatever you're going through, you don't have to go through it alone. You don't have to go through it at all with no one there with you. If there's anyone in the world you can trust, Rye, it's me. I swear, you could tell me anything at all and I'd be there to listen."

In a genuine, heartfelt voice, he told his brother, "I'll help you, Rye...if you'll let me. If you need someone to talk to, I'll be there. Or if you just want someone to sit down with and know someone's there, then I'll be there. That's what brothers are for."

It felt like an eternity before Rye finally spoke. For the longest time he just went on staring at the wall while tapping his fingers repeatedly. Not once had he answered Peeta or even acknowledged that he was still standing in his room. Peeta reckoned he was either just acting like his old self and simply choosing not to respond, or his mind had taken itself someplace else and he wasn't hearing a word his brother was saying. Like most times, Peeta truly didn't know how to read his brother's behaviour and the harder he tried making sense of why Rye acted like he did, the more his head started spinning.

"Get out," said Rye so quietly that all Peeta heard was mumbling.

"What?"

"I said get out!" Rye hollered. He rolled over, got up off his bed and made his way up to Peeta while forming a fist which his brother knew would strike him at any second.

"I wanna help you!" Peeta exclaimed in one last desperate attempt. "I hate seeing you like this, Rye! I hate hearing you cry in your room because I know something's bothering you but you won't tell me what it is! I don't want you to feel like you're alone because you're not! I can be there for you. I can talk to you, help you and be there! You'd never be alone with me around. Don't you want me to—"

"Shut up!" hissed Rye and shoved his brother hard against the wall. He leaned in, clenched his teeth and said in a seething voice, "You don't think someone can be an ass if they want to? Guess what, loser? They can be. You don't know a thing about me! I know everything about you but I'm all but a stranger to you! And that ain't gonna change. I know every little thing there is to know about you and your messed up life. I know you can't bring yourself to accept that people can be so heartless but newsflash, brother...they can be! Just look at Mom. She's about as nasty a person as I've ever seen so what makes you think people can't be like that if they don't want to be? It might scare you and too bad if it does, but people can be total jerks if that's what they want. And you'd better get your head out of the clouds and start believing it!"

Slowly, Peeta began backing out of his brother's room, but his remained fixed on Rye's. He wished there was some way he could see into his brother's life and find out all the things he so badly wanted to know about. He wanted more than anything to be able to see past the hazy fog and into the truth that he knew was lingering somewhere in his brother's mind...and even deeper in his heart.

"I'm just trying to—"

"Leave me alone!" groaned Rye, who was now beyond the point of feeling maddened. He was now out and out pissed. _Can't even have some peace around here._ _Why can't this freak just leave me alone?_ "You wanna know how you can help me? Stay out of my life!"

But Rye wasn't finished with his brother just yet. He gave Peeta one last shove out of his room as he closed the door with a deafening SLAM! What with how much force he'd put behind slamming his door shut, Peeta had no doubt both his parents and Luchi had heard.

"How about I make things clear for you?" said Rye, and then growled in a threatening, icy tone, "Come in my room again and you'll be sorry."

He then jumped back onto his bed, went back to listening to music and using his laptop while devouring one treat after another. He might have been upset about his destroyed cards and incensed that Peeta had gone on rambling for as long as he had, but he was hungry and wasn't going to let his awesome feast go to waste. And as long as Peeta was anywhere else in the house, then he wouldn't have to worry about interruptions, or knockings on the door. It would just be him, his music, his laptop and a plateful of brownies for the rest of the night.

 _Friggen' loser_ , he thought, stuffing a particularly delicious brownie into his mouth. _Why does he even bother ask me why I treat him like crap? He already knows why. I hate him. Hate everything about him. Can't stand him. Can't look at him. Can't think about him._

Peeta had attempted to break through his brother's thick shell of hostility, but his efforts had been in vain. He knew how things would turn out but that never stopped him from going ahead and trying anyway. But like with every other time he'd tried getting answers from his brother, all he'd managed to do was annoy and frustrate Rye even more and have a door slammed right in his face. Whenever he'd try and dig deeper into Rye's life, time and again he'd be met with the same thing – having a door slammed in his face, getting spin on or yelled at or fully and completely ignored.

Peeta wasn't one to give up easily, or admit surrender. Even in the most complicated problems and gruelling challenges, he was a fighter. He was able to stand strong, keep his head high and find some way to turn things around and make things right. His brother, however, was the rare exception. The war that had been raging on between he and Rye was one of so many layers and was so painfully difficult. For so many years he'd been hard at work attempting to bring an end to this needless battle and build peace between himself and the guy that was his own flesh and blood.

Instead of accomplishing peace, through all of his efforts he'd been met with discouraging failure. Time and time again he was faced with that same sense of disappointment. Like with all his efforts, there was only one word that could describe how his latest attempt had gone.

It had been a complete and utter failure.

Though his efforts with Rye had resulted in no success, that didn't mean he wouldn't get in one last word regarding what his brother had done and said at school.

Peeta remained standing in front of the door as he called, "If you ever do something like that again – what you did today at lunch with Katniss and I – mark my words I'll just find other things of yours to ruin. So if you don't want that to happen then leave _both_ Katniss and I alone. You leave us alone and I'll leave your stuff alone, agreed? You promise to leave me alone and I won't touch any of your stuff, got it?"

"Whatever!" snapped Rye, and then roared in his loudest voice, "Just stay the hell away from my room!"

 _Fine_ , thought Peeta as he turned to head down the hall. _If that's what you want._

He'd barely moved five steps from Rye's door before he heard a familiar voice call out, "Peeta?"

He turned and saw the only person in his family who he was ever glad to see, talk to or spend time with – his father. The man was an older version of his son with the same blond hair and bright blue eyes. But most importantly, his traits and features lived on so evidently through his son that anyone might have mistaken them for being the same person just broken up into an older and younger version. Like his father, Peeta was kind, funny, humble and as good of a guy one could ever hope to meet. He'd definitely gotten the majority of his genetic makeup from his father, while Rye ended up cold, harsh and demanding like his mother. As for Luchi, he might not have been the unbearable slug that Rye was, but he'd never spent a whole lot of time with Peeta. More often than not he'd be out with friends doing whatever it was he did when not working at the bakery.

No, of the three Mellark sons, there was only one that was the spitting image of their father and it wasn't Luchi or Rye.

It was Peeta.

"Hi, Dad," said Peeta, stopping and turning to face him.

"Sounded like there was some arguing going on up here," he said. He then asked his son more softly, "You and Rye again, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," said Peeta, giving a tired sigh. He felt tired in more ways than one but his older brother was hands down the biggest reason for him feeling so exhausted and drained. "He was...being a pain again. He did something today that was pretty much the worst thing I could have feared he'd ever do. I still can't stop thinking about it. I-It had to do with Katniss. I just don't know how I'm gonna be able to fix what he did."

His father had only to look at Peeta for a second to realize whatever it was Rye had done, it was clear that it was _still_ painfully fresh in Peeta's mind. He knew what his son would seek from him – reassurance and words of comfort – and as always, he'd make sure that his son received this. If there was anyone in their family that would be there for Peeta whenever he needed it without even questioning it, it was him.

"We've still got some time before your mother finishes up with supper," he explained, making his way towards the living room. Peeta watched him quietly and didn't respond, since he was still bouncing Rye's words around in his mind and was having a difficult time silencing them. "Should be another half hour till everything's finished. How about you and I have a little talk until then and you can tell me about what it is that's bothering you? I might just have some words of advice for you, Peeta."

Peeta knew he might have been unfortunate to have such a spiteful mother and two brothers – one of whom was the worst kind of brother imaginable and the other hardly ever said a word to him and ignored him almost constantly – but he was about the _luckiest_ person around to have such a patient, understanding and loving father who was always there whenever he needed him.

 _Thanks Dad_ , thought Peeta, following quietly behind. _I'd like that_.


	16. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER 16**

 **SEPTEMBER**

When Peeta reached the living room, he saw that his father was already taking a seat in one of the sofas. Though their sitting room wasn't overly big in size, both Peeta and his father agreed it was certainly cozy and comfortable enough. His mother on the other hand, would continually grumble and complain that, "It's not big enough!" or, "We need more furniture!" and as his she often made a point of emphasizing, "It's no wonder we don't invite anyone over. There's hardly enough room for a crowd!"

Her husband disagreed though, as he did in most situations.

He argued that the house was plenty big enough but his wife just never seemed to accept this. She would constantly be at his throat snapping in irritation, "Well, maybe if we _earned_ more, we could afford to buy more and actually give ourselves a bigger place." She always put the blame on her husband, as if whatever anger and negativity she was dealing with was all because of him. All the reasons for them not doing as well or proving as successful as other bakeries were shoved right onto his shoulders like a ton of bricks. So often they argued but time and time again their fighting was brought on by the same person, and that was Mrs. Mellark. Never was their quarrelling due to something her husband had done, said or suggested.

Since he was little, Peeta couldn't help feel confused and baffled as to why his amazing father had settled for such an unpleasant woman when he deserved so much better. He deserved a woman that respected him, admired all the hard work he put in to providing for his family, helped him in challenging times and above all else, loved him. Why had he chosen to marry such an insensitive and cold-hearted woman? It had been a question he'd been pondering about for sixteen years and to that day he still hadn't the slightest idea of why he'd married her.

When he sat down next to his father, his mind went back to all the times the two would sit down and talk about everything and anything. When he was younger, Peeta would come home from school and if he was upset about even the smallest thing, his father was right there to help cheer him up. He was there to help him with homework and whenever his son asked, lent him a hand in studying for tests. It didn't matter the time or day of the week either; if Peeta needed his father, he was there.

He was happy that the two had maintained a close relationship over the past few years. Where most teens and their fathers might have grown farther apart, the bond between Peeta and his dad had remained solid, strong and unbreakable. It also relieved him because he couldn't imagine where he'd be or what he'd do without the gentle guidance of his father in his life. Just the thought of his father suddenly no longer in his life truly frightened him and made him hope that his father would be a part of his life for many, many years. With a mother that despised him, a brother that harassed him and another brother that didn't give him the time of day, he needed someone in his life that actually cared for him.

Peeta looked at his father as if trying to find some strength or clarity that might help make his predicament feel and seem less _complicated._ He didn't even know where to begin with explaining what had happened at lunch, let alone what Katniss might have been feeling about all of it. He was still so confused about everything that he was starting to wonder if maybe Rye had screwed things up for good. That was a thought that lasted all but a single second because the fact that he was sitting there with his father meant that there was still hope in turning things around, and undoing the damage his brother had done. As with so many other times when they'd sat down together, Peeta's father was the light in his otherwise dark and complicated life. Even through all the darkness that would settle over him and leave him lost in his thoughts, that light was still always present.

His father gave a warm smile and said, "How about I make us some hot chocolate?"

Peeta nodded and feeling like his mind was relaxing slightly, said, "Okay."

"I think I'm craving something minty right about now," he said thoughtfully and then with a knowing smile, asked his son, "You up for something minty?"

Peeta gave a light chuckle and answered, "Yeah...I could go for the usual. Mint's always good."

"Mint-flavoured it is then. Be right back."

While his father was in the kitchen quickly getting the two mugs made, Peeta couldn't help overhearing the annoyed voice of his mother barking to her husband, "Oh, give me a break! What's that boy troubled about _now_? Lost a painting at school? Fell and hurt himself? Failed a quiz in math? Honestly, will he ever start acting like a man? You gonna run to his side every time he's worried about something? You gonna baby him forever?"

"He needs someone to talk to," said Mr. Mellark plainly. "He's looking for—"

"And what?" his wife interrupted. "He can't go figure it out himself? Can't find solutions to his own problems? Why you're gonna go waste your time with that boy, I have no idea."

His father – who wasn't bothered by his wife's constant outbursts considering he'd been putting up with it for years – kept his voice calm as he told her, "Just let me handle it, dear. You get supper started. I'll go talk to Peeta."

"About what?" she hollered, tossing her dish rag into the sink that was filled with a mountain of dishes. "Wait, let me guess. That stupid girl he's been crushing on since forever? Why do you even waste your time with him? He's sixteen years old, Allan! Sixteen! He's hardly an adult. What the hell does he even know about love? You think he really understands what that is? It's just a four letter word to him."

"I think he understands it more than you think," said her husband calmly but firmly. "He's been in love with this girl for years. If he really didn't know as much about love as you say he doesn't, then why does he still have his heart on this special someone? He knows more than you think, Nora."

"Oh, really?" she said and then argued, "You really think someone his age knows a thing about love? I'll tell you what I think. He's just your typical teenage guy that can't control his raging hormones! They're all the same. One guy's no different from the other."

"Dear, he's been in love with this girl for eleven years," her husband reminded her. "He wants someone to speak with, to get opinions and advice from and of course I'm going to give him that. You think just because he's sixteen, he can't come to his father when he wants someone to talk to? What kind of parent turns their own child away, no matter what age they are? Whether you think he's too old to seek help from his father, that's not changing the fact that I'm watching out for him. Maybe you don't see the point in it, but I plan on sitting down and talking to him whether you think it'll solve anything or not."

"And what'll you think that'll do?" she snapped. "Smarten him up? Why don't you try and talk some sense into him for once and have him man up and start acting more like a _Mellark_!I'm not gonna have some son of mine moping around because of whatever petty problems he's having at school. It's about time he grew up and stopped obsessing over a girl that doesn't even want him! He needs to start acting like a Mellark...not some lovesick child! He's letting this girl get to his head, Allan! And you know what? I'm not going to tolerate it. He needs to get his stupid head out of the clouds and start focusing on what's really important. Dropping these foolish dreams is the first step and once that's done, he can start putting his focus on school. That's all he should be worried about anyway."

Mr. Mellark remained in control as he told his wife sternly, "You know as well as I do that our son's a Mellark and a member of this family. He's always been, and always will be. And as his father, it's my job to be there for him whenever he needs me. If he ever needs someone to guide him, then I'll always be there. Maybe you don't feel the need to be there for him as a mother but as a father...he'll be welcome to come talk to me whenever he wants about anything at all. That's not going to change, Nora."

His wife shook her head and growled, "Peeta? A Mellark? I hope you're kidding because there's no way in hell that ridiculous boy in there is a Mellark! He needs a whole lot more smacks to the face before he can ever be called a Mellark because all I see him as right now is a weakling child. Luchi's certainly a Mellark. He does what he's supposed to, is a great help to us and though Rye shouldn't be sitting on his ass so much doing nothing, he's still a Mellark. He's got more Mellark in him than Peeta, that's for sure."

"How can you even say that?" asked her husband with a shake of his head. "All three of our children our Mellarks. Peeta's just as much a part of this family as Luchi and Rye whether you think so or not."

After rolling her eyes and sighing out of annoyance, Mrs. Mellark muttered, "Why couldn't I have been given a daughter?"

Her husband stared at her for a long moment and then said with sadness in his voice, "You were blessed with a loving, amazing son that would do anything for you. You couldn't have asked for a better child. I only wish you could see that. The fact that you can't kills me because I bet it would mean the world to that boy if you'd change your ways and be good to him."

"No," she argued under her breath. "That's just what you see. What I see is a guy that isn't truly a Mellark. What he really is...I haven't the slightest idea, nor do I care."

She then turned and stormed out of the room without saying another word.

 _But I_ _am_ _a Mellark_ , thought Peeta, feeling stung and undeniably hurt by his mother's harsh comment. _I always help out whenever it's asked. I always do my best when decorating the cakes and yet you still treat Rye better than me! I know Luchi is helping you full-time, so I suppose he's more helpful and all but yet you still treat Rye like he can do no wrong. How come you treat him like he's the one helping you out when it's always been me? You know how lazy and selfish he is and yet you still treat me like I'm a_ _runt_ _in this family but..._ _why_ _? Why do you treat me like this_? _All I ever wanted was to be treated like a son._

Before Peeta had time to go on thinking about it much longer, he saw his father entering the room holding two mugs of hot chocolate – one for himself, and one for his son. As usual, Peeta was given his mug of the various orange-colored stripes while his father took his mug that was of every color of the rainbow. The instant he caught sight of his father, Peeta made sure to instantly wipe the look of hurt off his face in fear that his father might insist they talk more about he and his mother as opposed to what he was truly concerned about, which was Katniss. Besides, he knew the odds of his mother suddenly changing into someone as amazing as his father were about the same as him sprouting wings and learning to fly. He knew in his heart that it just wasn't going to happen. He _wished_ he had a heartfelt relationship with his mother and that the two could get along, enjoy one another's company and love each other like mothers and sons should, but he couldn't waste his time wishing for the impossible. He was just grateful waking up every day knowing he had a father who loved him and was _alway_ _s_ there for him.

He was thankful to have a dad who didn't mind giving advice to their son or talking to them when they simply needed listening ears. And though he knew his father had always hoped for a daughter as well as a son, he didn't doubt for a second the love he had for him. One of his sons was almost constantly cursing, acting immaturely and practically acting like he was four, while the other spent every free moment of his time out hanging with his friends. But Peeta was nothing like this and in his father's eyes there wasn't a finer boy in the world. While his mother had obviously wanted a daughter as well, she didn't act the same way her husband did towards their sons. And though she could have treated both Luchi and Rye a bit better, hands down the one she treated the worst was Peeta. He tried to be a good and decent son but his mother never seemed to care how nice of a guy he was and he knew deep down she'd always be wishing he'd been born as a daughter instead of a son.

When both mugs were placed on the table and his father had taken a seat, Peeta reached out and brought the warm drink up to his face. The steamy goodness of hot chocolate never failed to give him shivers as the delicious smell warmed him from head to toe. He especially liked making the stuff around Christmas time, and he always made sure to add just a hint of minty flavour as well as a few marshmallows to make it extra special. As his father had guessed, he was in the mood for that very minty flavour right then and the smell of it was all but heavenly.

 _Doesn't matter what time of year it is_ , thought Peeta, bringing the mug closer to his nose. It seemed the more he inhaled and let the minty flavour wash over him, the more delicious it smelled. _Summer, winter; this stuff never gets old._ He then thought of Katniss, thinking, _I wonder if she likes hot chocolate? I bet she'd love the taste of this minty stuff._

His father took a sip of his own mug, before setting it back on the table and returning his attention to his son.

"Must have been something pretty awful Rye did, I'm guessing?" he asked him. "That kid's always stirring up trouble. I just wish he'd stop putting so much of it on you. I just don't understand why that boy gives you such a hard time. I've lost track of how many times I've taken him to see Dr. Aurelius over at the Bernick Hospital. It's always the same though. He says there's nothing wrong with him and it seems the harder I try to offer him help, the madder he gets. If only he could see what a terrific brother you really are to him. Luchi, too. He's always ignoring you and it's a shame he won't spend more time with you because I'm sure you two would be very close. He spends so much time with his friends but I wish he'd involve you more or take some time for you guys to do something."

For a moment, Peeta allowed himself to drift back to earlier that day at lunch when everything had come crashing down, all because of his jerk of a brother.

"But it must have felt horrible what he did," his father continued. "Even when you first came home, I saw a look on your face that didn't seem right. That's when I knew something had to be troubling you."

"Yeah, it was pretty bad," said Peeta quietly, the embarrassment flooding back into his thoughts. "It just felt like he...ruined everything. I don't really know what to think, though. I'm pretty confused at this point but he definitely said some things I _really_ wished he hadn't. It's not that I wanted to keep it all locked up forever, because I didn't. I've always wanted to tell her how I feel, but I wasn't ready to say all those things to her yet. All those secrets that Rye's known for years, he...he just told her them all."

His father nodded in understanding and said, "Tell me what happened."

So Peeta went ahead and told him everything. He explained how he and Katniss had been having lunch together and had been having a nice time till Rye had barged in and made a mess of things. He'd revealed everything about Peeta's past regarding his love for Katniss. He then ended by mentioning how Katniss's reaction had been one of surprise and shock and when she'd asked him if what Rye had said was true, his only option was to be honest and tell her the truth, which was yes. He was then hit with another wave of grief when she avoided his gaze completely, got up out of her chair and made her way out of the cafeteria while leaving him anxious and alone.

When he'd finished, his father's only response was to give a small sigh and a nod of his head. He stayed silent for a minute, as if rolling his son's words around in his head and giving them serious consideration.

"I'm sorry, son," he finally said, and the sympathy was palpable in his voice. "I wish things hadn't turned out like that, and that everything _had_ worked out for you and Katniss. I really, sincerely do. I know how much you care about her." He gave a light chuckle, and added, "Seems like just yesterday you first laid eyes on her. I still remember that look of awe on your face when I first pointed her out to you. I swear the gleam in your eyes...it was like you'd seen an angel."

Peeta gave a sad smile at the memory that felt like a lifetime ago. He was suddenly longing to be five again so he could be granted a second chance to go up to Katniss and talk to her, as opposed to doing what he'd done which was to stand by and keep hoping he'd find the courage to do so, which he'd never did. Without hardly noticing, eleven years had passed by in a blur and not once did he ever find the guts to say so much as 'hello'. That was because his nerves had successfully gotten the better of him.

"What should I do, Dad?" asked Peeta, his voice filled with confusion. "I tried texting her to meet me when school was over but she never showed up. I feel like she doesn't want to speak to me but I just...I just want to talk to her so badly. I want to try and explain things to her, but I'm worried she might not want anything to do with me right now. I can't blame her. It's a lot to take in but I still wish we could talk about things."

"That's the best place to start, Peeta," his father commented softly. He reached again for his hot chocolate, took a brief sip, and then set it back on the table before continuing. "Letting Katniss know you're there for her is key. Yes, she probably is in a state of shock after hearing all that but you can't let the fear of that interfere with making it clear to her that you're _there_ _._ _"_

Peeta lowered his gaze to the floor and listened closely to what his father was telling him.

"It sounds to me like you've already taken that first step though," he went on. "By texting her. If that fails however, then trying to speak with her face to face would be the next obvious step. You want to let her know that what you want is to work things out with her and to erase any tension or nervousness between you both as a result of Rye's meddling. The thing to remember though is that at the same time, you've got to leave it up to _her_ _._ She's the one who'll ultimately decide how she feels about the situation and where she wants to take things. Of course you hope that everything will work itself out but you can't ignore the fact that sometimes not all situations can...mend themselves. I know that to be true because of things that have happened to me over the years. It's unfortunate, but there's always the chance that some problems just can't fix themselves. But for now, Peeta, I would focus purely on seeing Katniss and telling her whatever it is you feel you need to say to her."

"But what if she doesn't want to...take things anywhere?" asked Peeta uneasily. "What if she just feels so awkward and uncomfortable about the whole thing that she just wants to stop _seeing_ me?" He had to struggle to get the last few words out because it felt like he was accepting the possibility that the developing friendship they once had might _not_ be able to go back to the way it was and it pained him horribly. It was reality though and as his father had pointed out, some things in life just weren't able to work themselves out in spite of one's efforts. This could very well be one of those scenarios.

Peeta knew what his father would tell him next, but it wasn't easy hearing it. He wished he could be promised and assured that things would be alright between him and Katniss, but he knew that was a promise his father _just couldn't_ give him. What he needed to hear was the truth, even if that truth wasn't exactly what he'd hoped to be told.

"Then you have to respect that," said his father gently. "I know that sounds hard what with how long you've loved her but if that's what she'd want, then sadly that's how it would have to be. Things don't always work out for the better and we don't always get what we want in life, but that doesn't mean we stop trying. You let her know that you're there, and that you want to talk about it and whatever happens from there...happens. But no matter how hopeless anything seems, you never give up. Even if things seem dark and like there's no chance for things to rebuild themselves, a light can still be found. I've noticed that in my years of living. Somewhere in the dark even when things look their worst, there always seems to be some kind of light you can grab onto. We can't always see it and maybe it's not always clear to us what it means exactly, but it's there just the same. What I'm ultimately saying is you never surrender or stop trying, even when things feel like they're at their worst. I want you to remember that, Peeta."

Peeta nodded and told him, "I will." He went silent only momentarily before directing his attention onto another subject and unable to ignore it, he asked, "Dad, can I ask a question?"

"Anything."

"I've kind of wanted to ask you for years, but, never got around to it I guess. I've wondered about it and wanted to ask but I just never did. It's about you...and Mom."

"I think I know where this is heading," said his father with a knowing look in his eyes. Peeta swore he saw a look of sadness appearing as well.

"Really?" asked Peeta, surprised.

"I think you're curious about Katniss's mother," his father explained. "And why I'd never gotten together with her and instead, ended up with your mother. I had a feeling you'd come and ask me about it one day. You're curious about it, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, I am," Peeta admitted quietly. "I mean, you've loved her for so long and wanted to marry her but that never happened. You seemed like you really cared about her and wanted to spend the rest of your life with her but...what happened?"

His father gave the smallest of a smile – one that spoke a thousand words – and answered, "It was because of what I _didn't_ do. I'd had my eyes on her for years but never got the courage to actually speak with her and before I knew it, it was too late. My chance at telling her all I'd wanted to tell her was gone. We were good friends growing up and were in a lot of the same classes throughout high school, but I never spoke up. So many times I told myself I would but my nerves got the best of me and before I knew it, she slipped out of my grasp. All those years slipped by in a blur and I wasn't even been aware of it till it was too late. She'd found love with another man and the two were soon happily married with two daughters. It wasn't till the death of her husband that she and I started growing apart. She was so crushed by what happened to him that it was like the people around her vanished. We still run into each other once in a while but we're just not as close as we were when we were young. I can only imagine the pain she felt when she lost him, and I'm sure it's still just as hard for her. Would we be together today if I'd said something to her? Maybe. But that's an answer I'll never get. It's something I can only spend time wondering about."

"That's...that's like Katniss and I," said Peeta, amazed at how much his father's story paralleled that of his own. Like himself, he'd grown up battling his nerves and shyness and because he'd let them take over, he'd never plucked up the courage to reveal his feelings. It was near identical to what Peeta had been facing for so many years – a constant shyness that had been standing in the way between him and Katniss.

"It is," his father agreed.

"You went through what I'm going through," said Peeta. "Just like you, I've loved her for years but yet I haven't even said a word to her. Till now, anyway. If not for ending up in the same art class, who knows if I would have even said anything. I know I'm still pretty shy when it comes to Katniss but I think this year would have been different. I never thought we'd be in the same class but even before that, I told myself I'd speak up this time and not keep hiding."

"I think that's what I want you to take from all of this, son," his father told him after running his son's words through his head. "If you love something so deeply, then no matter what fears and doubts you have, you _have_ to fight for it. If you have a chance to speak with Katniss then despite how nervous you are, you take it. You do whatever you can, but just know that even the strongest of efforts aren't always enough. Hearts get broken, misunderstandings happen and some reach a point where they no longer feel the same way and find themselves moving on in search of someone else. That's life and sometimes we just have to accept that. But that doesn't mean we don't stop trying. If you want love, then you've got to grab onto everything that falls in your path because it might not always be there. Remember what I said about searching for a light. If things look dark, look for a light because you'll never know when one might show up."

"I only wish I had spoken to her all those years ago," Peeta went on. "Maybe we'd even be together now."

His father put an arm around his son's shoulder and said sincerely, "You're a good person, Peeta. I know that more than anyone. And I know you'll do the right thing. As to whether or not this whole thing can work itself out, that I can't answer for you. I can't see the future and give any promises because I don't know where Katniss's head is right now. But I _know_ you'll do what's right. You always do, and I hope it all works out for you.'

Peeta gave his father an appreciate smile, and said, "Thanks, Dad."

There was a brief pause before Peeta remembered something else he'd wanted to ask his father about for years. He wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to, but it had been nagging at him for so painfully long that he knew he couldn't ignore it anymore. He'd kept it in the back of his mind for the longest time but he couldn't think of a better time to bring it out in the open.

"Dad?" he said quietly.

"Yes, Peeta?"

"I-I wanted to ask you something else," said Peeta hesitantly.

"Anything," said his father.

Peeta took a soft breath and then asked, "Was Mom always the way she is? I mean, was she like this when you first met her?"

His father locked eyes with him and shaking his head, he told him sadly, "No, not always. When I first met your mother, she seemed like a pleasant and likeable woman. She was a little outspoken and didn't always think first before she said things, but she seemed like the caring type. After having seen Katniss's mother end up with another man, I thought for sure I'd never find myself another woman as lovely as her. But then your mother came along and my spirits were lifted. I'd found a woman I'd always dreamed of finding and it seemed like the two of us would be truly happy together. It was funny because she sort of came out of nowhere. I didn't see her coming but then she came into my life and I couldn't have been happier at having her there. But then she...she showed me a side of her I hadn't known existed. I don't know where it came from or if she'd been like that forever and was simply boggling it up inside her but she...she suddenly showed me that she wasn't the woman I'd always thought her to be. To this day I still don't know why exactly she became the kind of person she is or if anything will ever change her for the better but one thing I know is that—"

"I think I know why," Peeta whispered, and his father could instantly sense the hurt and sadness in his voice. He was about to respond, but Peeta was quick to continue and when his father heard the words come out of his son's mouth, he felt like his heart was ripping in two and it was a pain he'd never experienced. Of all the pain he'd encountered – watching Mrs. Everdeen give her heart to another man, hearing of her husband's tragic end, and witnessing the abrupt change in his wife's behaviour – none could compare to what he was now feeling.

"I-It's because of me," said Peeta shakily while dropping his head. "I know Mom always wanted a daughter a-and—"

"Oh, Peeta...no," his father said firmly, but gently. "No. Don't you even think that for a second. I know your mother is harsh, impatient and doesn't treat you—"

"But it is, Dad," said Peeta, and couldn't help but let a single tear trickle down his cheek. "Mom's always wanted a daughter and it was probably bad enough having two sons, but then to have a third son come along, that probably got her madder than ever. It's my fault she's the way she is. I bet if I'd come out as a daughter like she'd wanted instead of a son, you two would be together and—" he let out a choking sound as if he were holding back from crying altogether and said, "And we'd be the perfect, happy family she probably wanted all along."

His father stared at his son with such hurt in his eyes that he feared he'd start sobbing right then and there if he didn't say or do something at once. So he wrapped his arm around Peeta's shoulder and pulled him closer while attempting to reassure his son that whatever assumptions he had about why his mother was the way she was were all but wrong. He wasn't going to let his son go on believing that the reason for his mother acting like such a witch was because he'd come out as a son instead of the daughter she'd so badly wanted. He was in no way going to let his son hammer himself with such torture when he received enough of that in the run of a day. If he allowed Peeta to go and do that, then he might just witness the total and complete emotional breakdown of his youngest son.

"I want you to understand something, Peeta," he said slowly, and tried to keep his voice from cracking. He himself was on the verge of breaking down in tears but he had to remain strong and positive for his son. Whatever emotions were racing inside him, he had to put them aside and focus only on ensuring that his son didn't put the blame on his own life. "And I want you to listen carefully because what I'm about to tell you is extremely important _._ Okay? No one knows why your mother is the way she is or what made her become this way. There could be many reasons why she went down the path she did but I'm just not certain what could have brought that on. I don't know and your brothers aren't sure either but I want you to know that whatever the reason, it isn't your fault in anyway. You're a wonderful, loving son and your mother would have no reason whatsoever to treat you the way she does. I know you think it's because of the fact that she never got a daughter but I want you to knowand believe that this isn't the reason. We might never know why she changed the way she did or what caused her to, but I never _,_ Peeta, want you even thinking that it could possibly be because of you. If there's one thing you can't do, it's to put the blame on yourself when you're the last reason in the world she'd have to be like this. You just can't put yourself through that kind of suffering. Never, ever blame yourself for your mother's behaviour. Do you understand?"

Peeta nodded and while wiping the tears from his eyes, replied softly, "Yes."

His father nodded and added sympathetically, "Never, ever think you're the reason to blame for your mother's behaviour. Never, Peeta. Okay?"

"Okay," his son said, just as quietly.

It was the look Peeta and his father next shared that the two of them realized something. Though no words were spoken between them, they both understood something just as much as the other did and they didn't need to say a single word to know what the other was thinking. They could see it crystal clear in the other's eyes and it was like for that one moment, they could read other's thoughts as if they were reading their own.

As Peeta stared silently into his father's eyes, he saw all the pain, frustration and grief his wife had given him over the years and above all, the truth. He could see it so easily and it made no difference how much it left him hurting because there was no running from the truth. He knew the truth behind his mother's nasty behaviour and he knew his father was aware of it also. His mother hadn't changed into a horrible witch for some unknown, mysterious reason that no one could make sense of. No, she'd grew into the monster of a woman she was today because she hadn't been given what she'd wanted for so many years – a daughter in the family.

And it wasn't just Peeta who knew this. His father knew it too.

Both knew that whenever she'd lash out and strike Peeta across the face, she'd secretly be shouting, "Why couldn't you have been a daughter?" Or every time she'd give him an unwavering glare, she'd secretly be asking in frustration, "Why couldn't I have just gotten what I wanted? Why'd I get stuck with another son when all I wanted from the start was a daughter?" All those times she'd unleashed her anger upon her youngest son, she'd really been telling Peeta and her husband why she was the way she was. It was painful to accept as the truth but it was the unfortunate reality that had been so the day Peeta was first brought home from the Bernick Hospital.

Peeta and his father could read the truth in the other's eyes. They both knew there was no denying or rejecting the truth that was right in front of them. And how could they? All the evidence and details were all out in the open so instead of letting the haunting truth consume them...they went along with a false, made up reason. Accepting the truth wasn't a thing either one of them wanted to do so rather than do that, Mr. Mellark took it upon himself to present his son with a lie. He wasn't a deceitful or dishonest man but what he needed was to protect his youngest son's emotions from running wild, and so he did what he could to convince his son that this truth...wasn't the real truth.

From the other end, Peeta was fully aware of this real truth and knew why his mother loathed and disapproved of him. But like his father, he too wanted to choose to believe in something he knew was a total lie as opposed to a truth that would always be tormenting him. And what with the difficult situation they'd been dealing with for so long, perhaps it was best to think of an alternate reason for their mother's behaviour in place of the distressing truth.

"I want you to promise me that, son," his father said seriously, not removing his arm from around Peeta's shoulder. But still the tremor in his voice hadn't faded and Peeta could see how much he was struggling not to let his voice crack altogether. "Promise me that you'll never blame yourself for your mother's behaviour. I never want you to put yourself through any kind of pain when you're not to blame."

"I promise, Dad," he said quietly, not removing his eyes from his father's.

"Good," he said in an almost inaudible voice, and then looked his son right in the eyes as if trying to give him one last bit of reassurance that would stay with him. With one final look, the two silently agreed on choosing to believe their mother had changed not because she hadn't been given a daughter, but because of some other, unknown cause.

"There's something else I always wondered about," said Peeta slowly, and soon found himself staring ahead at the wall. His mind was transporting itself to a place Peeta had been to plenty of times and upon each visit, always pondered over the same, single question.

"What's that?"

"If Mom's treated you so badly for so long," said Peeta, and it was like he could hear the screaming voice of his mother appearing in his head. He knew her voice wasn't really there, but it felt unnervingly real just the same. "And she isn't the same person she was when you first met her then..." and he paused only for a short second before asking, "Why have you stayed with her for all these years?"

His father gave a light sigh and said plainly, "Because I'm still waiting."

Peeta blinked, raised his brow just slightly and said, "For what?"

"For the woman I love to come back to me...to all of us," he answered tiredly, and the sadness and longing in his voice was all but palpable. "Somewhere inside me, I'm still hanging on to the hope that she hasn't left us entirely."

"That's a lot of years spent waiting," said Peeta, feeling both stunned and puzzled. He never would have thought all the times he put up with his wife, he was doing so because he hadn't yet abandoned her. Where others would have packed up their things, said their goodbyes and left, his father hadn't gone anywhere. He was still patiently waiting but it shocked him to think how he'd waited so dreadfully long, and he was no closer to getting her back.

"It is."

"Most wouldn't wait that long, would they?" said Peeta who already knew the answer.

"No, Peeta," his father replied, thinking it over. "I don't believe they would. But I'm willing to wait if I knew your mother would come back to me...to all of us. She was once an amazing woman and I don't want to give up and think she's gone from our lives. I think she's still in there. Maybe getting her back hasn't been easy but I want to believe all's not lost yet. I want to think there's a light in her somewhere that's been locked up for years."

"Most would leave and go look for someone else," Peeta remarked. "They'd give up and not bother to stick around waiting, especially not for that long."

"Yes, that's usually what people do," his father agreed, knowing his son was absolutely right. Not a lot of people would linger around with a partner that had issues with anger, patience, cooperation and various other things. They'd waste no time in packing their belongings and beginning the process of finding a spouse that was everything they both wanted and deserved. "But even after so many years, I still can't bring myself to leave. It's hard to explain but the best way I can describe it is that something's holding me back. It's like something inside me keeps telling me things will get better, problems will get fixed and the wife I once knew will come back to me...and to her sons. That light's gotta be in her somewhere. The hard part is bringing that out."

Peeta watched his father for a moment. It was like an invisible door was opening itself up and allowing Peeta to enter and once inside, he was getting yet another glimpse into the life his father had lived all those years ago.

There was only one other time when Peeta had learned more of his mother's past and that had been when he was eight years old. He'd been alone upstairs and when he almost tripped over a book that had fallen on the floor, he couldn't help but feel curious as to what was inside. If only he would have known that by opening the book, he'd be met with a painful realization – and that was that his mother had never felt happy about him having been born as a son. Page after page he'd glance at, only to read the same heartbreaking words of 'He was supposed to be our daughter' or 'Two boys is bad enough but why did we have to be given a third?' and the worst of all, "I'd trade him any day for a daughter if I could."

Not once had he ever told his father that he'd looked in the book. There had been more times than one when he'd debated about whether or not to approach him about it, but time and again he'd decided to keep silent. He was now sixteen and he'd still never brought up that saddening day when he'd learned the agonizing truth about his mother's feelings towards him.

He was now about to receive a second glimpse into his mother's life, but it wouldn't be through the pages of a book. It would be through an unfamiliar place that had once existed years ago and as everything came into focus, he felt as if he himself had gone back in time and was now living in this point in time.

The air smelled fresh; the sun was shining; the atmosphere was lively; colors were vivid and bright and looked to have been taken out of a painting itself; there was a peaceful, comforting silence that lingered around him that was occasionally broken by a bird's chirping, and filling his ears was the sound of familiar laughter.

It didn't hit him right away whose laughing it was. It was on the tip of his tongue and it wasn't till he went on listening more closely that he finally realized who was laughing.

It was his parents.

Both were sitting on a bench under a weeping willow tree and looked just like the typical cheerful couple one would come across on a stroll in the park. And this was exactly where they were. The park they were in was one of the most famous and well-known in District Twelve and it was their most favourite place to visit on such a wonderful day. It was a gorgeous area that was perfect for bird watching, picnics, chatting and sleeping for any that wished for a few hours of rest. It was also ideal for couples because it was such a serene and peaceful place and allowed lovebirds to lose themselves in their own world completely without any worries of sudden interruptions.

These lovebirds, however, weren't there to admire the view or listen to the birds chirping in the trees. They were there to celebrate, and it was a celebration that felt all too much like a fantastic dream.

That was because they were expecting a baby.

"This is incredible!" said Mr. Mellark with obvious glee. "I-I don't even know what to think. To think we'll soon have a child in the house, it's...it's too exciting. Seems like just yesterday we were discussing how great it would be to have a child, and now we're about to! Can you believe it?"

His wife smiled, placed her hand gently on her stomach and said with equal excitement, "I know. Too bad we have to wait a few months though before we meet them."

Mr. Mellark chuckled and said curiously, "I wonder if it'll be a boy or a girl?"

Mrs. Mellark shrugged, smiled lightly and said honestly, "I don't know, but I'd kind of like to have a girl."

"I'll spoil her rotten, you know that?" her husband said with a playful grin. "I'll have her whole room filled with toys and dolls and whatever she wants. There's nothing she won't have because whatever she wants, I'll make sure I get it for her."

"Oh, I've no doubt she'll be your princess."

"She will," said Mr. Mellark with certainty. "I'll have her in dresses and maybe I'll even give her a crown." He then scratched his head, looked to his wife and asked, "Have you thought of any names? Any you'd like for a girl?"

"There is one that's stuck with me," she said thoughtfully. "I went over a hundred names and most of them just didn't do much for me but there was only one that caught my attention. I was thinking...Willow."

Mr. Mellark smiled and said softly, "Willow. I love it."

"I'm glad you like it."

"Well, I guess we've got our little girl's name decided then," he said, and then asked excitedly, "Any you were considering for a boy?"

"Well, not really," she said truthfully, letting her gaze fall to the ground. "I...I was kind of hoping for a girl and didn't really get around to thinking of boy names yet."

"Oh," said her husband. There was a brief pause and then with a small smile, he told her, "That's okay. I know you really want a girl. I'd love a girl too. And the baby won't be here for a while anyway so that gives us plenty of times to start going through boy names. I'm sure by the time the little one gets here we'll have at least a few names in mind for the little prince, right?"

Mrs. Mellark responded with only a silent nod. She was trying to act enthusiastic towards the possibility that she and her husband might end up with a son, but what she wanted more than anything was a daughter. For the longest time all she'd wanted was a little girl – someone to buy dolls for, dress up in colourful clothes, have tea parties, do their hair and a number of other things – and her preference for a daughter was only growing. She wasn't entirely convinced she'd like having a son because she felt sure they'd be too much trouble and she wouldn't be able to handle it. Worse, because she sometimes had a tendency to stereotype people, she automatically assumed a son would be someone that wanted nothing but to go searching for ways to get themselves into trouble. She never intended to place stereotypes on others but the thought of a son wasn't one she was getting too excited about. The way she saw it, having a son would only worsen as the years went on. This son of hers would develop an addiction for drugs, alcohol, would skip classes, not bother with homework and would become the kind of guy that partied almost every weekend and made a mess of the house.

Without even having met her child yet, she already had in mind the kind of person her son would become.

 _A_ _son just wouldn't be the same_ , she thought, and could no longer look at her smiling husband, who was on cloud nine at the thought of soon becoming a father. _He'd be too much trouble._ _A daughter would be so much easier and I'd relate to her more. I'd understand her and_ _she'd be like a younger version of myself. Anyway, he doesn't care whether we have a son or daughter so as long as we have a girl, then everyone's happy. Why can't he see that we'd get stuck with a troublesome brat? Where's he getting this ridiculous idea of a prince? It's not like we're living in a fairy tale. Does he really believe we'd get lucky enough to be given such a son?_

When at last the time came when the two were at the Bernick Hospital awaiting the birth of their baby, Mr. Mellark felt like his head would explode. He couldn't even begin to compare the throbbing of his headache to what his screaming wife was going through though; it was like comparing an innocent pinch in the arm to getting punched repeatedly in the face by an iron fist.

Hours went by and soon came the glorious moment. Mr. Mellark was standing at his wife's side while the doctor was reaching down to reveal the rest of the crying baby. His excitement couldn't have possibly been any greater and when he felt the first tear trickling down his face, the doctor looked to him and his wife with a beaming smile. It had been a long, tiresome wait but it was finally over and now was the time to give them the news they'd been so eagerly waiting for.

"Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Mellark," she said, holding their newborn baby carefully in her arms. "You have a healthy, beautiful little boy."

Mr. Mellark was overwhelmed. The sight of his newborn son was a sight he'd been constantly imagining for the past few weeks and now that it was at last a reality, emotions were clouding his thoughts. He felt blessed, awed, ecstatic and a joy that was all but new to him because up till now, he hadn't known what it was like to be a father – but he now did and the feeling was indescribable. His life was about to change in so many ways and he could hardly wait to bring the little boy home to their bakery.

"A-a boy!" he managed to get out, and he thought his face might crack in two if his smile grew any bigger. Turning to his wife, he said softly but joyously, "Y-you hear that, dear? We have a son!"

Yes, his wife felt a stirring of joy at having given birth to a child. Her child. There was no denying that she too was embracing a mixture of emotions. But she also couldn't ignore an unmistakable, overriding emotion that she wished she didn't have to be experiencing. She'd wanted things to work out perfectly but she hadn't anticipated this. Her mind had been set on giving birth to a daughter but she'd forgotten about the other possibility that had just become reality.

 _I so wish we'd had our daughter though_ , she thought and didn't dare say this out loud. She knew the doctor would undoubtedly question why a woman would be so obsessed with having a daughter over a son when having a healthy baby was the single most important thing. All that mattered for parents in the delivery room was having a healthy baby. Arguing over what gender they preferred just wasn't a thing most men and women spent time pondering about.

Mrs. Mellark, however, wasn't like these other people. She had felt gender to be highly important as it was a daughter she'd been so eagerly wishing for.

"I think I have a name!" Mr. Mellark offered, who was now holding his son lovingly in his arms.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I know this might sound kind of strange," her husband began, but a smile was tugging at the corners of his lips. "But I was actually thinking how fun it would be to give our children different and unique names that stand out. I've always been rather fond of the idea of giving our kids names that aren't common and ones most have heard before. That, and we could even make a family tradition out of it."

"That's a good idea," said his wife who was doing her best to sound nothing but excited. "What name were you thinking of?"

"I've got a name," he told her and with the tiniest chuckle, he asked her, "What would you think about naming our child after bread?"

"Bread?" she said, the surprise at once showing on her face. "You mean bread as in bread back in the bakery? Bread that we bake and eat?"

Her husband laughed in amusement and exclaimed, "Yes, bread as in bread at the bakery and bread that we bake and eat. I know it sounds a little odd. If you don't like the idea, I'm more than okay with—"

"Oh, no, I'm fine with that," she said quickly. "I just thought it was funny when you mentioned bread. When you said unique, I wasn't expecting that. I didn't know how unique of names you were considering. So what bread did you want to name him after?"

"I was thinking...Luchi," was his answer and there was a distinct sparkle in his eyes. Of all the breads he'd gone through – Bannock, Broa, Kulcha, Proja, Roti and several others – Luchi had been the only one that seemed to fit their newborn son.

"You and I both love using that bread and it's one of our favourites. And now that I think of it, it was the first kind of bread we ever used. I remember it. The day we opened the bakery and started getting things ready and organized, we both got hungry and decided to bake some bread for lunch. So we did and it wasn't till now that it hit me that Luchi bread was the first kind of bread we ever baked in our new bakery. That day was the start of our new life at the bakery and just like today, it's the start of something else. Today's the day our family begins and I can't think of a better name to give him. We celebrated the opening of our new bakery with Luchi bread and now with the birth of our first child, I...I can't think of a better name."

"You've got an impressive memory," she remarked. "Even I couldn't remember everything about that day. It was such a long time ago."

"It was," he agreed. "I guess the birth of a child can really help spark some memories."

"Appears so."

"So you really like the name?" he asked in excitement. "You don't mind naming him Luchi?"

"It's lovely," said his wife and minutes later, her son Luchi was positioned comfortably in her arms. Her husband – now the happiest man in the world – remained right by her side and did nothing but stare adoringly at his son with eyes the size of marbles. As for Luchi, the tiny baby was whimpering softly and it wasn't long till he was crying loudly and demanding attention. His mother and father were right by his side and eventually after much cradling and cooing, the little baby was now nuzzling into his mother's chest.

"Who knows?" said her husband, and he too was gazing down in awe at their newborn child. "Maybe Luchi bread will end up being this little guy's favourite bread."

His wife chuckled under her breath and said, "We'll find out in a few years."

"Hey," said Mr. Mellark suddenly. "I just had another idea."

"You're full of ideas," she observed. "Seems having a baby's gotten you more creative than ever."

"Seems so," he said in agreement, and it was like lights were shining in his eyes. "I was thinking since we named our son after bread, we could have a celebration at home. Just the three of us. We can bake some freshly made Luchi bread and that can be our way of welcoming him home and to our family."

"I love that idea," she said quietly, gently rocking her newborn son in her arms. "It's a perfect way to bring the little guy home."

Her husband smiled warmly and said to his son, "We're putting together a party for you, Luchi. We're gonna bake bread and then show you the room we've got ready for you. How does that sound?"

Luchi's only response was to go on sucking his thumb. As a newborn child, baking bread wasn't of much importance to him right then. All that was on his curious mind was seeing all there was to see in this grand, remarkable world that was now home.

 _Yes, I know he's overjoyed and he'll be the perfect father but I just...hope we'll have a second chance at having a girl,_ thought Mrs. Mellark, who was already looking ahead to what the future would look like.

Luckily for her, they were given that chance.

After spending two years with Luchi, the two were now wishing to have yet another child. Where Mr. Mellark was delighted simply at the thought of another child in the house – regardless of whether it was a boy or a girl – Mrs. Mellark saw this as a glorious opportunity to finally be given the daughter she'd wanted for the longest time. This time, they would certainly have a girl.

She was further convinced of this when she felt the tiny, but recognizable kicking of the growing baby inside of her. Unlike when she'd been carrying Luchi – who had been quite the kicker and left his mother feeling sore almost constantly – this little one was gentle, and hardly ever got his feet moving. She knew this could mean only one thing, and that was that their newest baby was a girl. Why else would she not feel consistent kicking like she'd felt with Luchi? Not only that, but the few kicks she did feel from her developing child were almost unnoticeable. Were so many growing children would get their legs kicking away, Mrs. Mellark was feeling nothing of the sort with this newest child.

"So you think we've got a girl this time?" asked Mr. Mellark eagerly. Sitting on his lap with a soother in his mouth and a teddy in his arms was Luchi. He'd just finished eating a delicious bowl of apple sauce and was now occupying himself with tugging at his daddy's shirt. He was so very curious about everything and anything around him and right then, he had his mind set on pulling at clothes.

"Hey, careful little guy," his father chuckled. "Don't want to get tangled up in my shirt. You go crawling into that and I'll never find you again!" Luchi stared up at him with his wide, blue eyes and made a small squeaking sound before returning to tugging at daddy's shirt. His father could only chuckle, knowing that when his little son had his mind on something, there was no changing that. The world was his to explore and that meant whatever was around him needed exploring.

"I think we have our girl," said his wife, feeling positive. "They don't kick much and when they do, I barely feel it. Well, I feel it of course, but it's nowhere near as much of a kicker as Luchi was. Sometimes I even wonder if there's a baby in there at all but then I see the size of my stomach and I know they're in there. Your stomach doesn't grow to the size of five watermelons for nothing. Looks like you're about to get your little princess, dear."

A smile crossed her husband's face as he replied, "I've got to be the luckiest man in the world. First, I'm given a prince and now I'll be blessed with our little princess...Willow. I sure wish time would move quicker though! I don't know how I managed to wait for Luchi but it feels like time stops moving, you know? You know the day will get here but in the moment, you just wonder if time's really moving at all, or if someone's put a stopper on it."

"Not much longer," Mrs. Mellark smiled while pressing her hand against her belly. "Your daughter will be here soon enough." _Yes,_ _I'm certain_ _of it. It has to be a daughter. There's no way it's a boy this time._

Time flew by faster than both had expected. Before either one of them knew it, they were back at the Bernick Hospital with baby number two on the way.

For Mr. Mellark, the moment felt more surreal than the last time he'd been there. For some reason, it felt more like a dream and it wasn't till their baby was minutes from joining the world that it dawned on him that he was about to meet his second child. One child had put him on cloud nine and he was once again about to be lifted into that glorious place. Butterflies danced in his stomach and all he could wonder was what this little girl might look like. Would she have her daddy's blue eyes? Or her mother's chocolate brown eyes? What color hair would she have? Would it be straight, curled, long or short? Would she have freckles?

"Almost there!" the doctor proclaimed. "Just a few more pushes and you'll be able to meet your child."

 _She's coming!_ thought Mrs. Mellark excitedly, and did all she could to fight through the unbearable agony of feeling like her entire being was getting split into two. The harsh contractions might have left her drained and more than exhausted, but that would be ending soon enough. And then once that was over, her daughter would become part of the world and would officially become a Mellark. _Our girl's almost here!_ _Just a few more pushes and she'll be here! Our Willow will be—_

"Congratulations!" came the announcement. The newborn child had officially entered the world and was now carefully being moved from the doctor's arms to that of his mother's. The doctor looked to Mr. and Mrs. Mellark, smiled and told them, "Another healthy little boy to join your growing family. Didn't take that long for this little fella to make his way out so he must be especially excited to meet you two!"

"Two boys?" Mr. Mellark exclaimed in amazement. "T-that's wonderful!" He wrapped his arm around his wife and said through his tears, "How about that, sweetheart? Another son!"

"I-It's wonderful!" she said, and was truly at a loss for words. She wanted to be excited and over the moon thrilled but how could she be? How could she smile and feel truly ecstatic when she was anything but disappointed? This newest child was supposed to be their daughter and instead of their little girl Willow becoming part of their family, another boy would soon be part of the picture. A second prince would be coming home with them but that wasn't what she'd wanted. What she'd wanted so desperately was a princess.

After the doctor assisted Mr. Mellark in cutting the cord, she handed the baby over to him with a beaming smile.

"H-he's a small little guy, isn't he?"

"He is," the doctor remarked. "One of the smallest I've ever seen. He's beautiful though. I've never seen a child with such gorgeous eyes. They look like they were taken straight out of a painting. I might have guessed a painter himself had colored those eyes such a striking brown."

"Just like yours, Nora," said her husband in a tearful voice. "Brown as chocolate."

She gave a smile and agreed, "For sure, he's got my eyes."

 _B-but I was sure it would be a girl this time!_ she thought, and couldn't help but wonder what had gone so terribly wrong. She'd felt entirely convinced that growing inside of her was a daughter but the whole time a little boy was stirring quietly. All the gentle movements she'd assumed had been coming from a developing girl when really, it had been a boy all along. _This was supposed to be our daughter! One son I would have been content with but two? No! One son and one daughter would have been perfect. Now I'm stuck with two sons when all I wanted was a daughter._

"Would you like to name this one?" her husband asked, his eyes still filling with tears.

"Oh, no that's okay," she said, and smiled warmly. "You can. You seem to be good at choosing names, so you can name him. Besides, you know every possible bread we've got back at the bakery so if anyone can come up with the perfect name, it's you."

"So you're alright with naming him after a bread?" he asked, cradling the newborn child in his arms.

She gave a light chuckle and said, "I'm starting to like the idea of it, actually. It can be a sort of tradition, you know? Each of our children can be given the name of a certain bread."

"That's a rather interesting idea," said the doctor who couldn't help overhear their discussion that involved babies and bread. "Can't say I've ever heard parents naming their children after bread. I remember you two saying that same thing when you were here with your first son. Definitely one of the more unique things I've ever heard."

Mr. Mellark gave a shrug and said, "Unique was what we were aiming for."

The doctor gave a final smile and told them, "Well, there's no question that what you're doing is unique indeed."

"So what bread were you thinking of naming him after?" his wife asked. She was staring at the remarkably tiny child with a smile on her face but beneath that was disappointment. It wasn't showing in her eyes but it was there in her heart, and no time soon was that going to fade.

After running through a long list of the various types of bread in his head, Mr. Mellark finally found one that seemed like it belonged to their newest son. There was something about this name that seemed to fit with their little boy, who was now snuggled up comfortably in the crook of his arm. He'd considered plenty of names but there was only one that brought a smile onto his face that told him this name was indeed meant for this little guy.

"Rye," he finally said, and couldn't take his eyes off his precious son. "Rye bread's always been a special bread and we've been using it for years. It's softer than most breads and is incredibly tasty."

"That's perfect," said his wife. "Luchi and Rye."

Mr. Mellark let another smile cross his face as he leaned down and said in a joyous whisper, "Welcome to the family, Rye. When Mommy and I get home, we're going to celebrate your arrival with some freshly baked Rye bread." He then looked to his wife and asked her eagerly, "Does that sound alright?"

"It's lovely," she said in a whisper. "It only makes sense we do that since we did it with Luchi."

It was then the two noticed Rye starting to open his eyes. After blinking a few times and whimpering lightly, he then gazed up in wonder at the large face staring down at his own and pressed his face against his father's chest. It surprised both of them to see that he wasn't crying like most babies usually did. Mr. Mellark couldn't help but stare in awe at his newest son as he went on making these quiet squeaking noises that sounded all but adorable.

It was one year later that the two were considering having a third child.

"What do you think about a third child?" asked Mr. Mellark. "Would you like to have another one? Or do you think two is enough? We've certainly got our hands full, so if you don't think we're quite ready to bring a third child into the family, I'm more than okay with waiting."

"No, I definitely want another," said his wife with absolute certainty. "I've had that decided for a while now. There's no doubt three children will be a handful but I think you and I are up for it. We've been doing alright with Luchi and Rye so far, so I'm sure we're ready to have another child."

Her husband nodded and in total agreement, said, "You're right. It'll be a lot of work but you and I work great as a team. Having another child will just mean working that much harder but it'll also mean having another miracle joining the family."

"Exactly," she smiled.

The two were sitting on the living room couch and crawling about on the floor below them was two-year-old Luchi and one-year-old Rye. For the past hour Luchi had been happily spending his time playing with a mountain of tiny cars. He'd position them in place and then give them a little push and squeal in delight when he saw them rolling off along the wooden floor. For him, it was the most exciting thing he'd ever seen and time and again, he was amazed at how fast they sped across the floor.

While he went on doing this, Rye would take a seat anywhere on the rug and watch the miniature cars go rolling across the floor. When he got bored of this, he'd return to doing what he loved doing more than anything else which was sucking his thumb. That never failed to keep him busy and so many times his parents would check up on him, only to see that his thumb was soaked with saliva. As his father would always point out, "He's a thumb-sucker, he is. He's very serious when it comes to putting that thumb in his mouth."

When his older brother pushed off of the larger cars, Rye's eyes widened and he immediately started clapping his hands. He then wobbled his way excitedly over to the car that had landed next to one of the tables and he wasted no time in picking it up. He gave a few inquisitive looks at it and then began waving it around while squeaking cheerily. Luchi crawled over towards him and he too started clapping his hands while watching his baby brother play with the toy car.

"Caw!" squealed Rye and his face broke out in a wide smile.

"Are you playing with the car, Rye?" smiled his father. Watching his two sons sitting there playing together and exploring their new home, he'd never felt happier in his life.

"Daddy!" he cried and with even more excitement, called out, "Caw!"

Once more he began waving the car around but it slipped out of his grasp and sped across the room. A few fleeting seconds it was seen sailing through the air and just as quickly it landed on the opposite side of the room next to a coffee table. For the next minute, Rye was busily clapping his hands and laughing louder than ever. For him, the display had been all but hilarious and he wished it would happen again.

Mr. Mellark chuckled loudly and said eagerly, "Rye? Can you say car? Caw is what crows say, though you make a very good crow! Can you say car? C-a-r?"

Rye gave him a long, curious look and then squeaked with his usual enthusiasm, "Caw!"

His father gave a loving smile and told him, "Close enough." While pointing to where their car had fallen, he said, "Your caw went flying across the room, Rye! See how fast it went?"

"Caw go...fast!" chirped Rye, letting out a laugh.

"Okay," said Mr. Mellark, turning to face his wife. "So we know we want a third child. That we both agree on. It'll be hard work and we're gonna have our hands full for a while, but we're ready. We're having so much fun with Luchi and Rye that having another is only going to add to the fun. It'll make more work yes...but these little guys just make everything so much fun. They haven't even been here that long and I already can't remember when a time when they weren't here. I feel like they've been here forever."

His wife nodded, and said quietly, "I just hope—"

"What?" asked her husband questioningly. "Are you having second thoughts?"

Mrs. Mellark sighed and said frankly, "I just hope we'll have a daughter this time." _No. We need to have a daughter this time. I've waited long enough and don't need to wait any longer!_

"Oh, don't worry dear," said her husband with a smile. He then wrapped his arm around her and said in a comforting voice, "I'm sure we'll get our daughter. What do they always say? Three's a charm? Well, maybe three really will be our charm. Maybe we'll finally get our daughter and then we'll have our family: Luchi, Rye and Willow."

"I hope you're right," was all she said. _You'd better be._

It was just a few weeks before the baby arrived that Mrs. Mellark felt a familiar kicking. It didn't have as much force behind it as Luchi's had; it was more along the lines of the sort of kicks she'd felt while carrying Rye. The kicks were small, but had enough force behind them to certainly feel them. What she was currently feeling was a series of mild, gentle kicks that left her tingling with anticipation. It seemed like their daughter was giving them signs that confirmed that she was indeed a little girl.

"Feel that?" she asked, not moving her hand from her enlarged stomach.

She removed it briefly and when her husband placed his hand carefully where hers had been, he waited patiently. A few seconds passed and then he felt the unmistakable kicking of their growing child. A wide grin spread all over his face and he locked eyes with his wife.

"Might be her," he said, and felt more of life and energy than he had in years. "That might be our Willow."

"Just a few more weeks," his wife reminded him. "And then we can meet her."

"I hope we can wait that long."

A few months later the Mellarks were back at the Bernick Hospital and on the way was child number three. The days leading up to it had felt like they'd gone by extremely slow and both had wondered if their newest child would ever arrive, but the waiting was over.

Once more the long and exhausting process of labour took place. As always, Mr. Mellark remained loyally by his wife's sides and did all he could by offering her words of support and encouragement, constantly ensuring her that he was there, and wouldn't be leaving. The deafening screams of his wife left him feeling a good deal helpless, however, as if he himself was experiencing unbearable pain. If he hadn't been standing by his wife's side and was only hearing her endless shrieks, he would have feared something dreadful was happening.

He had nothing to fear though; that he knew all too well. His wife might have been undergoing excruciating pain and he hated to have to listen to her go through such agony, but it would all be worth it. Just like with their son Luchi, and just like with their son Rye, all the pain would soon be forgotten as if it hadn't been there to begin with. Through all the contractions, pushing, hollering, panting, grunting and feelings of doubt...it would be worth it.

Of course it would be worth it because their third child was about to be born.

What Mrs. Mellark wasn't expecting was how much more painful of a procedure it would be when compared to when she'd given birth to Luchi and Rye. The pain felt a hundred times worse; it felt longer and everything seemed to be proceeding at a much slower pace; she never seemed to stop screaming and she reached a point where her throat were beginning to ache, and the voices around her sounded blurry, unfocused and vague. It was out-and-out horrible.

 _It'll be worth it though_ , she kept telling herself throughout all the pain. _I've wanted a girl for years and now we're finally going to meet her. Just make it past this last hurdle and you won't ever have to worry about not having a daughter again._

But when the baby was finally out and she was waiting for the incredible news that she and her husband had a daughter...the doctor told her something she hadn't expected at all.

"Isn't this lovely!" she smiled, and held the baby up for Mr. and Mrs. Mellark to see. "You've got another healthy little boy joining your family!"

"A-a boy?" said Mrs. Mellark in surprise, her mouth hanging open in shock. What the doctor wasn't aware of was that she wasn't shocked in a joyous kind of way. No, she was shocked because she hadn't wanted to have another boy; what she'd desperately wanted was to have a girl, but that's not what she and her husband had been given.

"W-wow!" was all Mr. Mellark could get out, his face lighting up in a wide smile. As before, his voice was shaky and filled with heightened excitement. "Another boy, t-that's great!"

Just like she'd done the last two times, Nora allowed her husband choose the name for their child. This time, he seemed to be having a much harder time coming up with a name. He wasn't exactly sure as to why, but for whatever reason, it was a challenging task to find just the right name for their newest bundle of joy. While going through all the types of bread, he hadn't yet discovered one that felt truly right for their newest child.

Then it hit him. Though he didn't know it, the name had actually been sitting quietly on the tip of his tongue the entire time. He just hadn't been aware of it.

"Peeta!" he exclaimed, looking to his wife. "Is that alright? Peeta?"

"A unique name just like the others," said Mrs. Mellark, watching her husband and son with unblinking eyes. "Just like Rye and Luchi." She then added in a whisper, "It's perfect." _Peeta? No! This wasn't supposed to happen. Twice I wasn't fond of but having it happen a third time is just...just unfair. I didn't want to be given yet another son! He was supposed to be a daughter!_

"H-he's got the bluest color eyes I've ever seen," said Mr. Mellark, unable to take his eyes off the little, innocent face gazing up into his own in wonder. "They're like the ocean or...or some kind of jewel." Turning to his wife, he asked, "Aren't they?"

"Yes," she said, but her mind felt numb and right then, she wasn't focused on the color of her newborn's eyes. She was too obsessed over the fact that she hadn't been given her daughter. "Yes, they're lovely, dear. They're just as lovely as yours."

"Peeta, Rye and Luchi," said her husband excitedly. "Our three sons."

"Our three sons," said his wife in an inaudible voice. _Three sons...but no daughter. I'm still missing what I always wanted._

"Peeta," his father said in a quiet, cheerful voice. By now, his child's delicate little finger was wrapped around his much larger one and it was a feeling he could use no words to describe. It felt downright magical to be holding his son for the very first time. "How would you like to come home with us and meet your brothers? You've got two: Luchi and Rye. We're gonna bake some yummy bread to celebrate you coming home with us, and we've got your room all ready for you and lots of toys, games and—" and here he said with emotion, "And I'm just so happy to see you, little guy."

He turned to his wife, smiled and added in a choking voice, "We both are."

And so the two returned home with their third son, Peeta. While Mr. Mellark couldn't wait to experience life as a father of three, his wife felt entirely different. She wasn't feeling the excitement, joy and eagerness that her husband was. Instead, she felt as if the world was cruel and unfair and in her eyes, having yet another son just proved how unfair the world really was. Bitterness was creeping inside her and all she could think was: _just for once in my life can I ever get what I want?_

Unfortunately, Mr. Mellark was about to see a different, more unpleasant side to his wife. He was introduced to it just a few weeks after they brought their newest son home and meeting this new woman left him wishing more than anything that she'd vanish and the wife he loved would return to him.

It was on a Monday when he was shown this other side of her. While she was out getting some groceries and doing some simple errands, he was home with the children. It was mid-afternoon and the three boys were all sitting with him in the living room, and all were doing different things. Luchi was once more playing with his collection of cars. He sped them across the floor and never got tired of watching them whoosh away with incredible speed.

As for Rye and Peeta, their attention wasn't on the mountain of cars. They were simply sitting on the rug watching their oldest brother play with his cars while sucking their thumbs. As Rye was one to take particular enjoyment in doing this, his little brother had noticed and he too had started to become a thumb-sucker. His older brother found it highly fascinating when he saw baby Peeta copying what he was doing. It filled him with feelings of both awe and excitement.

"Pee!" he laughed, his face widening in a smile.

His little brother took his thumb out of his mouth and gave him a curious look. His mouth was open just slightly as if he was considering speaking, but he only went on gazing at Rye.

"What's Rye saying, Peeta?" asked their father who was watching them lovingly. "Who's he talking to?"

Rye chuckled again and pointing to Peeta, exclaimed joyously, "Pee!" When he saw his baby brother watching him with that same expression, he chuckled even harder and wobbled over to him. Peeta observed him the entire time and before he knew it, Rye had his chubby little arms wrapped as far as he could get them around him.

Peeta opened his mouth to speak but ended up letting out a quick hiccup instead. The sound startled him slightly but he immediately forgot about it and went back to staring at Rye. He wasn't one to dwell much on anything because he was too fascinated with everything around him.

Rye gave him an inquisitive expression, and then pulled him into another hug. "Wuv you!" he chirped cheerily. There was nothing but sheer happiness in his voice. "I wuv you Pee!"

"Hear that, Peeta?" said his father in tears. "Your brother Rye just said he loves you." He then looked to Rye and asked him, "You love your little brother, don't you Rye?"

"Pee!" he cried in response, giving his brother a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, Rye," said his father. "Can you say Peeta?"

"Pee?"

"Close. Peeta. Pee-ta. Can you say that for me, little guy? Pee-ta?"

"Pee," squeaked Rye. In a much louder voice, he called out, "Ta!" He must have realized what his father was trying to tell him because in an overly excited tone, he cried out, "Peeta!"

"That's it!" his father exclaimed and he too was feeling just as excited. Teaching his sons new words was always an enjoyable task and it was incredible to see the gleam in their eyes when they said a new word. It was one of the many, simple things he loved about being a father – watching his children learn and grow with each passing day.

Rye gave a soft giggle and this time it was Peeta who gave his brother a friendly hug.

"Wuv you Peeta," he repeated, holding his baby brother close. Peeta gave Rye another one of his wide-eyed, curious looks that held such wonder. This lasted only for a moment though because soon he had his head nuzzled comfortably against Rye's shoulder. For him, being in his older brother's arms was like being tucked under a warm, cozy blanket that offered nothing but warmth and comfort. Having Rye's arms wrapped protectively around him was like being safe and sound up in his crib while lullabies sung him to sleep. Like in his crib, he felt safe and happy in his brother's arms.

Mr. Mellark could have sat there all day just watching his three children crawling about on the floor. There was no greater feeling than knowing he was now officially a father. It was one of those things in life where one can't truly know what it's like till they've experienced it firsthand. Now that he had been given three to love and care for, he felt blessed and overexcited at now being able to call himself a father.

It was later that day when his wife arrived home that everything went downhill.

"This shouldn't have happened!" she said, shaking her head furiously. She was sitting at the kitchen table and across from her was her husband. They'd just finished putting Luchi, Rye and Peeta to bed for an afternoon nap and for the past twenty minutes they'd been arguing nonstop. "That boy was supposed to be our daughter! No, instead we just get stuck with another boy when we've got two already! I don't recall having asked for another son! I've been quiet since we brought him but it's just so unfair that it had to be like this."

Mr. Mellark locked eyes with her and said with emotion, "How can you say that? Yes, I know you wanted a daughter and of course I did as well. You know how much I would have loved to have been given a princess. But you go on about this like it's your own son's fault. How can you feel such anger for a boy who is your own family? What difference really is there between having a son or a daughter? He's your child! They are all! Whether you're given a son or a daughter, they deserve your unconditional love!"

"You don't get it!" she snarled, glaring at him. _No, just goes in one ear and out the other for him. How can he be so selfish when he knows what I've always wanted!_ _It's always what he wants and never what I want!_ "You just keep babbling on about how—"

"Listen," said her husband sternly, and refused to be cut off. "I know you keep saying that a daughter would be so much better, but answer this for me: would a son not love you just as strongly as a daughter? Would a son not admire and look up to you as much as a daughter? Would a son not be there for you whenever you needed, just as a daughter would? If you give him your love, then why in the world would he not love you in return?"

"You know a son could never love me the way a daughter would!" his wife growled indifferently.

"Why?" snapped her husband, and he swore his entire body was starting to shudder. "You tell me what possible difference there is between a daughter's love and a son's? Love is love, Nora!"

"There's plenty of difference, Allan!" she snapped in resentment. "You're just too ignorant to see past your own stupid—"

"Love is love!" he barked, tears streaming down his face. By now, he was unable to keep himself from blurting out in response to his wife's appalling words. What she was saying made him want to wish he'd returned home with a woman who only looked like his wife, but was actually a monster. It was tearing him to pieces and he feared he wouldn't be able to handle much more of it. "What you're saying makes no sense in the slightest and you know it! You're so blinded by your own disappointment in not having gotten a daughter that all you feel is hatred and frustration and...and you're taking that out on your newborn son! On a boy who believes you're a mother that thinks the world of him when all you're really doing is swimming in your own selfish thoughts! How can you only think of yourself when you have a little boy up in that room that needs you? It'll never make sense to him why you aren't able to care and love him the way you should. He'll never understand why you aren't able to love him as you would a daughter."

"You know that boy up there should have been a daughter," she argued and came close to slamming her fist on the table in rage. "Maybe you're fine with having a household of boys but you always think of yourself! Always yourself and never what I want! You don't care that all I want is a daughter. Give it a few years time and I'll be sick of having sons and no doubt in my mind that Peeta will be just as rowdy and tiresome as Luchi and Rye. He'll be the worst of the lot, I expect. Just my luck he'll drive me insane and make me wish I'd never had kids at all. Send me to an early grave that one will."

"How can you say that?" asked Mr. Mellark, not wanting to believe what his wife was saying. His voice went momentarily numb, but then he shook himself together and continued, "How can you talk like that? And about your own children! They're not out to make your life miserable, Nora! Why you think they are is beyond me. I just can't see what you have against the very children you gave birth to!" He paused briefly as if mentally trying to keep from screaming out and then added, "Do you ever stop to imagine what they might think if they grow up to hear you speak about them like that? What their image of you will become? To hear their own mother wish they hadn't been born, all because she hadn't wanted a son! Think of what that will mean to them! Don't you want to be a mother that loves her sons, is there for them and builds a bond with them? You have three blessings up in those rooms and I can't even fathom how you'd be so obsessed with your own selfishness that it would keep you from giving them the world."

"Maybe if we had a daughter in this family," she went on, completing ignoring the point her husband was desperately trying to make. "Then I could feel alright with how many sons we have. But having three's just...just unfair on every level. I never asked for this!"

"We asked for children and we were given them, Nora!" he exclaimed with emotion. "Three wonderful children, just like we wanted. I can see that with my own eyes and feel it in my heart but you...you still can't see how truly blessed you are."

"So unfair," she muttered, biting her lip in frustration. "Three sons...and not a single daughter. How the hell is that even fair?"

"How can you say it's unfair!" countered her husband who now couldn't refrain from raising his voice. The longer his wife went on speaking as foolishly as she was, the greater the anger was building inside him. To say he was disgusted with her spiteful behaviour was an understatement. "That boy up there is your child! Your own flesh and blood! The boy you held and looked into his eyes for the first time...and he looked right up into yours. How in the world can you say it's unfair when you've been blessed with a healthy, beautiful child?"

"How can you say it's not?" she said in a shrieking tone, clenching her teeth. "The hell with him being healthy and that other nonsense...I wanted my daughter, Allan! I've been patient enough and you know dam well I have been. First with Luchi, then with Rye but that one up there was...was the last straw for me."

Mr. Mellark gave an exhausted sigh, got up out of his chair and slowly walked off. Before leaving the kitchen, he said quietly, "Maybe I'll never change how you think about things but just remember something: whether you like it or not, Luchi, Rye and Peeta are your children and are a part of this family. I truly hope you'll come to realize this and consider the mother-son relationship you can have with those boys. If you gave them the chance to make you smile, laugh, love you and show you who they are...you'd be surprised."

Just then, Peeta saw the kitchen and both his parents quickly fading. Their hollering voices were starting to wink out and sound muffled as if something were covering them up. The world then grew black and unfocused, everything felt like it was spinning and all that he'd seen winked out completely.


	17. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER 17**

 **SEPTEMBER**

Peeta had just been given a glimpse into his parent's past and after all he'd witnessed, he felt terribly numb. Up till then, he'd held out the hope that his mother did love and care for him in some confusing way, but he'd just been proven wrong. His mother had made it all too clear that all she'd wanted was a daughter in her life and instead had gotten stuck with not one son or even two, but three. He could no longer try and convince himself that beyond his witch of a mother was the woman his father had first fallen in love with. It was obvious she was long gone and buried so deeply that any hopes of reintroducing her into the Mellark family were all but impossible.

 _She's gone_ , thought Peeta and found himself repeating his mother's words over and over. Soon, her words were practically screaming themselves into his restless mind. _Here I spent so much time hoping that she was still in there somewhere...but she isn't. All I wanted was for a mother who was as amazing of a person as Dad, but she's not coming back...and it's because of me. Ever since I was born, it's always been my fault._

But he didn't dare tell his father this. The last thing he wanted was to upset his father by telling him that deep down, he knew the reasoning behind his mother's unpleasant behaviour. He admired his dad greatly and would hate to leave him bothered by the fact that his son was starting to understand the true depths of his mother. He'd hate to admit to him that he understood how badly his mother had wanted a daughter, and how she was putting the bulk of the blame on her youngest son.

 _I can't tell him that_ , thought Peeta, still holding the mug of hot chocolate in his hands. The warmth had long since gone cold but he was too lost in his thoughts to even notice. _He goes through enough as it is. The best thing to do is just keep it to myself and not stress too much about it. Dad's got enough on his shoulders so maybe the best thing to do is just stay quiet and not say anything else. Maybe it's better to just pretend that's not why she's the way she is._

"Thanks, Dad," Peeta told him finally. "For taking the time to talk to me, I mean. I appreciate it."

"You don't have to thank me, son," said his father kindly and with a touch of sadness. "I'll always be here for you. That's what family's for." His father gave him a final friendly pat on the shoulder before getting up and heading back into the kitchen where his wife was nearly finished with supper.

Peeta didn't say much during the meal, for two reasons. The first was that he was replaying his father's words over in his head and realizing just how much he wanted to sort things out with Katniss. The second was that Rye was such a chatterbox and never stopped blabbering that Peeta hardly ever got a chance to speak, so he simply sat there and ate his food while letting Rye ramble on about nothing but ridiculous nonsense. It was like that at every meal. The only one to ever sit there and talk nonstop was Rye and half the time he only went on about utter foolishness. Luchi was a quiet person in general so he did the same as Peeta, which was to sit there in silence and eat.

Later that night – once the dishes were cleaned and the kitchen was tidied up – Peeta decided that he would head to bed early that night. He usually never went to bed by seven, but so much had happened that day and he wanted to get a good night's rest for what he'd have to do tomorrow, which was to confront Katniss. As for his two brothers, they too were heading up to their rooms for the night. The only person that wasn't so quick to settle in for the night was their mother. More often than not she'd spend the evening down in the kitchen cleaning the countertops, sweeping and doing any little chores she could think of doing.

Out of the five of them, Mr. Mellark was the only one who'd left the table before anyone else. He'd gone straight upstairs to his and his wife's bedroom and upon entering, had closed the door quietly behind him. His reason for having come up here at all wasn't because he was tired and wanting some rest – far from it. He'd needed to leave the kitchen table because he was reflecting back on what he and Peeta had discussed earlier that day. He'd thought about it briefly during supper but it wasn't till dinner was finished that it rushed back into his head.

Now that he was sitting on his bed staring out his bedroom window...he felt like the whole world was falling on his shoulders. Remembering back to what Peeta had said about his mother and how he'd broken down in tears, it was tearing his father apart. If he hadn't shut the door tightly behind him, his youngest son would have come across him at a time when he was terribly shaken. Very rarely did Peeta every see his father sobbing or in tears but what he didn't realize was that the man did an excellent job at hiding those emotions.

During the day when he was busy at work and interacting with customers, his mind was kept distracted and he was part of a much pleasanter life. But when the sun went down and the day was done, that life came to an end and he was forced to re-enter what was his other, more stressful life. It was in this life when he'd find himself swallowed up in his own regret and how unfortunate his family was. So many times when he'd think of his poor son and all the verbal torment he'd received from his mother, he'd be struck with such overwhelming shame. The disgrace that filled his heart on that night was far worse than it ever had been before. For so long it had been building up but with how stressed he'd become, he knew he wouldn't be able to stand much more of it.

His aching heart just wouldn't be able to take it.

"What are you doing, Allan?" he cried shakily under his breath. He shifted his gaze to the outside world and saw the bright, white moon resting high in the sky. It was still early and the stars hadn't yet come up but they'd be lighting up the sky soon enough. It was focusing his attention on the beauty of the moon that he felt so disgraced with what he'd let his son suffer through for so many years. Verbal assaults and occasional smacks to the face had become a part of his life and it was now dawning on him how cruelly unfair it was to this wonderful child.

"How could you say that?" he whispered in agony. He took a painful breath and went on, "You're still waiting for her? Look at what she's doing to him! What she's saying to him! You've been waiting years and she still hasn't come back yet. You keep hoping she will but she's still just as much of a witch as she's been since he was born. Ever since we brought him home she's been nothing but a monster." For a few moments, he couldn't retain from letting the tears take over. They slid down his cheeks and when he'd calmed down just slightly, he snivelled quietly, "We both know the truth. He knows why she turned so ugly, but he...my god, it's just not fair. What did he ever do to deserve this? So being born a son gives her the right to treat him so horribly?" He gave a deep sigh and murmured in puzzlement, "Why am I still even here? Why don't you just leave? Why are you letting this happen to him? Yes, I want her to come back to us so they can meet the woman she was once but...but you're not helping your son."

There was only one word that could describe how Mr. Mellark had been feeling for all these years – and that was weary. To say he'd grown tired from all the waiting, arguing and wondering how much longer a wait it would be was an understatement. In so many ways, he felt as if he'd aged enormously. Along with that, he was also realizing something else and it was sending shivers down his spine. It hadn't appeared so clearly before but it was now and it made him question where his heart really was in this rattled family.

"Have I really been that selfish?" he uttered, his voice so quiet that he himself could hardly make it out. "Have I been so fixed on waiting for Nora to return that I...I didn't see what it was doing to my son? To all of us?" Deep down, he knew he wasn't a self-centered person that was all about himself. If ever his sons or anyone else was in need of help, he'd be there in a heartbeat. But though he wasn't selfish in that sense, how else could he describe what he'd been allowing for years? While waiting for his old wife – the woman he'd first fallen in love with – to resurface, he'd let Peeta put up with so much. Where his two other sons were treated decently for the most part, it was the opposite with Peeta.

"I've let it go on for so long," he stated numbly, and a choking, gasping sort of sound escaped him. "All these years I've went on waiting and what's happened? Nothing. She still treats him like dirt and I'm such a coward that I can't even do anything about it. Yes, of course I step in to stop her from yelling in his face or hitting him whenever I can but that's all I ever do. He probably wonders why I don't leave to go search for a better, more loving woman but I...I'm still waiting."

Aside from believing the wife he once knew would come back at some point, there was more. With the kind of woman his wife had turned into, there was a feeling of fear that had built up inside him. And though he did hold some level of fear towards Nora herself, it went far beyond that. He wasn't just afraid of what she might do to him – he was worried about what she might do to his three sons, particularly Peeta. If he made even an attempt to leave her entirely, what reaction would he get from her? What he feared was that she'd grow so infuriated at the very thought of him leaving her that she'd turn her anger onto her sons. How far would she go if her anger went flying through the roof? How far would she let the violence consume her and what would become of their children...and Peeta? What would become of him if he ever had to face his mother when she was angriest and more violent then she'd been in all her life? The thought terrified him and he shoved it out of his mind and prayed he'd never have to find out what would become of them all if she reached that point of insanity.

There were even times when he'd experienced the most frightening dreams, none of which he'd ever told Peeta about. On those nights, he'd entered a world where his callous wife was providing her son with the final, ultimate punishment but it was one that in the end...would lead to his death. After hearing that her husband of twenty-three years was planning on leaving her, she'd gone completely and utterly mad. The haunting images that had rushed into his mind had been ones that had stayed with him for years – a rolling pin splattered with blood, her eyes wild with flames, her shaking hands clenched into fists and the body of their bleeding, dying son lying on the kitchen floor while gasping in pain.

"I can't let her hurt them, not like that," he told himself, once more shaken terribly by the reappearance of these chilling images. He wanted so badly to make things right but at the same time, was so anxious and lost and had felt so for what felt like forever. "I can't let her get that angry. Maybe I really can bring her back if I try harder. It's all I can hope for and if there's anyone in the world they deserve to meet it's their own mother – their real mother. Luchi and Rye need to see the real side of her and Peeta, he...he needs to see the mother hiding under this brutal witch."

It wasn't till the first shining star of the night came into view that he realized just how broken the Mellarks were. And despite all his efforts to be there for Peeta to offer whatever support and love he could, he still felt like he'd failed him. In his mind, there was still so much guilt he felt at not having tried to leave his wife and push her out of the picture. Just like his silence had let Mrs. Everdeen slip out of his grasp, he'd let his fear of his wife take control of his life. But he had to remind himself how much worse things would become if he brought the option of divorce into the equation. The anger that filled Nora now only would intensify and reach a frightening height where their own three children – mainly Peeta – would be in grave, potentially serious danger. As she mostly used her mouth when it came to speaking her thoughts, it wasn't often she actually brought physical harm onto her son. That didn't matter much though when he knew the verbal abuse she gave to Peeta was likely shaking his emotions.

All he knew was that he wouldn't let her bring serious harm to them.

He vowed on the lives of his sons he wouldn't let that happen. If the anger exploded and she let loose all the ferocity, then he'd ensure that got shoved onto his shoulders and his shoulders alone. In no way would he allow her to lay a finger on any of his sons. _I'll die before letting her put them in danger. She might be upset and fighting her own emotions, but she'll never hurt them in that way...never._

Soon the darkness in the sky was lighting up with an endless number of stars that shone like diamonds. It was such a beautiful sight and staring at it, he wished his own life could be just as beautiful. Instead, it was broken and in so many pieces that he wasn't even sure where to begin putting them back together again. Through all his headaches and worries, however, one thing was becoming clearer the more he went on thinking about it.

"It can't go on forever," he whispered, his mind and heart both racing. "It's gone on for too long but it can't be like this forever. It just can't. I've spent too long waiting but that poor boy's been forced to put up with too much, and it has to be stopped. I can't let it go on like this if nothing's getting better." While closing his eyes, he made a silent promise to his son and that was: _I'm sorry_ _you've had to go through all this, Peeta. You didn't deserve one second of it and I'll always feel guilty for not having tried to leave her sooner. I wish I could have been a better father to you and tried to do more for you and our family as a whole. But I promise I'm gonna try and make things right for us. I don't know exactly what I'll do yet or how it'll all turn out but I-I love you too much to be silent anymore. I feel like you, Luchi and Rye are all I have left now...and I can't let anything happen to you guys. Maybe I've lost the woman I once loved...but I'm not going to lose my sons and you're not going to lose your father._

When Peeta crawled into bed, he set his phone on his bedside table, but not before giving it another quick look. Still no text from Katniss. It shouldn't have surprised him, but it still hurt and made him fear what events just might unfold tomorrow. Would she still be ignoring him? Would they talk briefly? Would things work themselves out with a simple discussion? All he wanted was to sleep and luckily for him, sleep came quickly and before he knew it he'd drifted off to the realm of dreamland.

He was five years old again. It was the first day of school and he was waiting in line with his father. So many kids were gathered around. A little girl standing near the front of the line was wearing a red plaid dress with her hair done in two braids.

Mr. Mellark tapped his son on the shoulder, pointed in her direction and said quietly, "See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother but she ended up with another man."

"Why didn't she choose you, Dad?" asked Peeta, confused.

"Because I was never brave enough to tell her I loved her."

Peeta looked back at the girl and felt butterflies in his stomach. He thought he was staring at an angel direct from heaven itself and all that was missing was a halo, wings and a bright, golden light shining down upon her. He wanted to walk over and say 'hi' and that was when the dream took a rapid, unexpected change. Peeta noticed he was no longer five, but sixteen. His father had vanished, and all the students had winked out of sight. One moment they were there and the next they weren't. Nobody was present except for himself and Katniss, who was now sixteen as well. But she was still dressed the same with the red plaid dress and hair done in two braids as opposed to the single braid she normally wore.

She was staring at him. He couldn't tell if she was glad, scared or puzzled, but right now it didn't matter. All he wanted was to rush over and tell her how he felt, so that's what he did. Her eyes never left him as he made his way over and when he was standing in front of her, all the words came pouring out as if he just couldn't keep them boggled up inside for a second longer.

"Katniss," he said, his voice filled with passion. He took one of her hands, which felt small and warm in his much bigger ones and told her, "I shouldn't have waited so long to tell you but I _do_ **love** you. More than you'll ever know. And I know what Rye said was a lot to consider, but I'm here now and I'd give anything for us to be together. Please...I just want to do whatever I can to make you happy."

"Happy, huh?" she asked, sounding bored. She sighed and said, "Then why don't you just accept the fact that you're not the one. I don't care about you. I never have and I never will. _That's_ the guy who I care about."

Katniss pointed to the sky and when Peeta looked up he saw it – the hawk. The massive creature came swooping down and with a final flap of its massive wings, it landed. It locked its unblinking eyes on Peeta as it inched closer to him, keeping its head low to the ground and its wings to its side. It was completely black and looked like a demon straight from hell with its snapping beak and killer claws that could rip out his eyes with one simple swipe. With each of them being three inches long and perfectly sharp, he had no doubt it could destroy every part of his body as if he was made of tissue or paper. Its eyes were the darkest shade of black he'd ever seen and staring into them was like staring into the depths of an eerie shadow. It got to the point where it felt like they were getting darker and darker and he feared they'd swallow him up if he kept on staring, so he dropped its gaze and instead focused on the grass under his feet. Despite the fact that it was directly beneath him, it felt miles away as if he were entering some other dimension where everything felt hopelessly out of reach, even the ground under his feet.

"Thought I told you to back the **fuck** off, Bread Boy," the hawk hissed, opening its beak wider and there, Peeta saw its tongue, and it was so much redder and larger than any he had ever seen. Its voice then rose to a deafening screech and the ground itself seemed to start shaking. "Guess you'll just have to pay the price for being such a naughty boy and trying to interfere with Katniss and I. Thought you'd listen to my little warning but you're obviously not the clever guy you make yourself out to be, are you? You're bright when it comes to art but when it comes to listening, seems like you haven't been taught what it means to listen. You speak when I tell you to be silent but rest assured, your days of silence are only beginning."

This was no longer a dream – it was a nightmare.

The worst part was that Peeta was somehow frozen in place and there was no escaping this. His feet were glued to the ground and the monster hawk that was secretly Hawthorne was sizing him up like a slab of meat. He desperately tried moving his feet but whatever it was that was preventing him from escaping was holding him firm. Even with all the strength in his body, he wasn't able to budge even a little because whatever forces were at work were in total control.

"Why don't I show you just how _much_ this girl loves me?" the hawk laughed, and it was the creepiest, most unnatural sound Peeta's ears had ever heard. It sounded like a deep, throaty kind of growl but at the same time sounded like some piercing, high-pitched screech that was enough to crush his eardrums. The vibration of the unearthly sound bounded and bounced from one ear to the other with great intensity. All he knew was that the voice didn't belong to reality, and was a laugh he would hear only in nightmares like this. "Once I make that clear to you, maybe you'll stop thinking so foolishly, go search for another girl and leave us alone!"

Peeta then felt the pointed claws of the beast tear into his shoulders. The pain was like nothing he'd ever felt. The talons dug far past the surface of his skin and went right to his flesh. That wasn't all though. The hawk was merciless as it tore at Peeta's arms, legs, face, chest, back and Peeta could have sworn the sharp claws slashed at his eyes. All he could do was stand there helplessly and scream as the agonizing pain brought forth images that grabbed hold of his heart and tore it in two.

He was now standing by his locker. Across from him stood Katniss who was casually putting her books away. Appearing from down the hall was the familiar hawk as it came soaring in her direction. With a piercing shriek, its body morphed into that of Gale Hawthorne. He gave Katniss a playful grin and shoved her body up against the locker where he proceeded to shower her with endless kisses while she moaned in pleasure. Her legs wrapped around him as he continued to control and dominate her. Peeta – now feeling painfully dizzy and lightheaded – wanted out of there and seconds later was in the familiar surroundings of the cafeteria.

Katniss and Gale sat near the back eating and laughing while Peeta was forced to stand there and stare. It didn't matter where he went. The sight of her with Gale was all that consumed his mind. He tried running down the hall to find somewhere to hide, but it was useless. He saw them _everywhere_ – in the gymnasium shooting hoops; flirting and painting with Gale in the art room; walking hand in hand down the hallways and sharing an intense make-out session outside in the grass. It was all flooding into his thoughts in one horrible flash.

 _Just get me out of here_ , he pleaded, turning once more to try and escape from this torment. _Just let me go so I can_ —

Whether Peeta had been magically granted his wish or he'd slammed into the entrance doors of Madderson High, he wasn't sure of. It didn't matter though because a minute later, he was back in his room. He was panting and breathing heavily and wanting to ensure that it was definitely a dream, he gave a quick glance at his arms. He was relieved to see that there were no cuts, gashes or bleeding. It was the same with his legs, face and eyes – no actual harm had been inflicted onto his body. The monster hawk and everything he'd seen had come from a nightmare and had tortured him only in the world of his mind.

 _It was only a dream_ , he thought while still trying to catch his breath from the startling images that had consumed his mind. _You're just scared and that's why you saw all those scenes of Gale with Katniss. You're just worried she won't want to talk to you anymore. You're just nervous she'll go and choose Gale over you and not want anything to do with you anymore. He's not really a hawk. It's just my head messing with me. Just trying to scare me and make me see things that'll frighten me. That's what dreams do, but it's over now._

After having calmed down, there was one thing Peeta knew for sure and that was that he was still just as determined to speak to Katniss. No amount of Gale threatening him was going to stand in the way between him and Katniss. If Gale wanted to keep nagging Katniss or try and land a punch to Peeta's head, he could deal with that because that was all he'd try and do anyway. Peeta figured that eventually the guy would give up and accept that Katniss didn't have feelings for him because there was no use trying to convince her to go out with him when she was with somebody else. All he had to remember was what his father had stressed to him and most importantly, what his **heart** was telling him. In the end though, no one could determine where Katniss's feelings stood but her own self, and both he and Gale had to remember that.

With that in mind, he was all set to roll over and get back to sleep...when he heard the unmistakable buzzing of his phone. That could only mean one thing – someone had sent him a text. Upon hearing that sound, his heart had started beating just a little faster and no wonder. Getting a text that late at night didn't happen often so the fact that he was had shaken any bit of tiredness away. He was now one hundred percent awake and wanting to read this newest message.

He quickly got back up and leaned over to his bedside table. A glance at the clock and he saw it was 12:30am, but it could've been three in the morning and he _still_ wouldn't have cared. It wouldn't matter what time it was if it meant getting a possible text from Katniss.

When he opened the newest text and saw who it was, he instantly grabbed hold of his phone and brought it up to his face so he could get a better look at it. While doing so, he'd also knocked over his glass of water but it was only water. What was a little spilled water on the floor compared to the text on his phone anyway? He must have stared at the words on his phone for a solid minute before finally making out what they said. It was like he was so stunned that he had to shake himself together just to be able to read the words that were showing on his phone.

The text read: _Hi Peeta. I'm so sorry to be texting you this late. I know you're probably sleeping and in bed right now, but I just had to let you know how bad I felt about ignoring you earlier and not meeting you by your locker. Again, I'm really sorry. It's not that I was trying to blow you off or make you feel bad, but my head was in a million spots. I just wanted some time to think about things. Well, I did think about things and I was wondering if you'd still like to meet and talk. I was thinking maybe we could head down to the lake tomorrow after school? Anyway, sorry again for ignoring you. I really hope you'll forgive me._

Peeta read the text a few more times and his face lit up in a huge, relieved smile. He whispered out loud, "Of _course_ I'll forgive you. I'd have waited all week for you if that's what you'd wanted. I'd have waited a month if that's what you'd asked."

He then responded back by saying: _Hi! No, that's okay. I'm not mad at all. Like you said, you just wanted to have some time for yourself, and that's completely okay. I probably would have wanted the same thing, some time to think things through. No problem at all. Down by the lake? Sure, that sounds great. Do a lot of people go down there? I haven't been there yet._

Katniss's text arrived almost instantly.

 _No, not really. That's why I was thinking we could go down there for a bit just so we'd be alone to...to talk about things. I don't think anywhere else around the school would be the best spot._

 _Yeah, that makes sense_. _Definitely want somewhere with some privacy_ , _considering almost three thousand people go there._

 _Exactly. So I'll see you tomorrow then?_

 _Absolutely,_ was Peeta's reply. _You better get to sleep though, Katniss. Don't want to be sleeping in art class tomorrow. Mr. Odair might not let you paint anything...and he might not give you any sugar cubes!_

Peeta swore his heart skipped a beat when she answered back with _: I will. You make sure to get some sleep too or else you might not get any either ;)_

The fact that he'd just been texting Katniss about meeting up tomorrow made him almost forget something.

 _Crap! The water!_

He got out of bed and quietly, but quickly made his way to the bathroom to grab some paper towel to clean up the spreading mess. His mother would have a fit if she walked in right then and saw Peeta's floor covered in a puddle of water. He made sure to wipe and dry it thoroughly, and then went downstairs to put the wet paper in the garbage bin in their kitchen.

When he returned to his room, he got under the covers and felt the warmth of the blankets as he let his mind think about what tomorrow might hold. No longer would his dreams be filled of Gale and Katniss together or hawks or anything else. No, his dreams would be only of him and Katniss down by lake and the possibility of their dilemma coming to an end.

 _Down by the lake,_ thought Peeta dreamily, and felt his eyes slowly closing on him. _Just Katniss and I, and nobody else. Just..._ ** _us_** **.**

It was late in the night when Peeta was unexpectedly woken by a sound that could only be described as...unnerving. Just seconds ago he'd been slumbering away but the sudden noise that had yanked him out of dreamland was one he couldn't dismiss as nothing. It was first hearing it that he'd been struck with the oddest feeling that it was a noise that could only mean trouble. As to what kind of trouble, he wasn't sure of but he felt pretty sure of what he'd see if he went to get a better look.

He wasted no time in crawling out of bed and making his way out of his room. He felt sure his parents and two brothers were hearing what his own ears were, but he didn't think his mother would be one to let it ruin her sleep. She wasn't a person that liked having to get up in the dead of night because of something silly or unnecessary. Rye and Luchi were the same. There was no question that Rye was stretched out like the lazy creature he was and even if his ears were curious as to what the alarming sounds were, Peeta doubted that he'd actually leave his most favourite place in the world – which was his bed. Luchi likely wouldn't have been bothered much and would simply turn over on his side and fall back to sleep within minutes. The only person he knew who would have gotten out of bed besides himself was his father. Since the two shared such a similar mindset, he was likely feeling just as curious and nervous about what had waken them.

Before heading into the living room, he stopped and peered into his parent's bedroom. As he'd guessed, his mother was fast asleep and by the looks of it, wouldn't be getting up anytime soon. His father, on the other hand, was standing by the window and staring out into the dark, shadowy night. He hadn't heard his son's footsteps and it was no wonder; the howling winds outside were so loud that it would be impossible to hear even someone's shouting.

As he walked up behind his father, there suddenly came a noise that sounded like it wanted nothing more than to grab hold of their house and tear it to the ground.

When his father turned and saw his son beside him, he said quietly, "Pretty loud, isn't it?"

"Yeah," was all Peeta could say, feeling numb. "You think it's a storm?"

His father gave this some thought. After thinking it over, he gave a shrug and said honestly, "Seems like it. But I've never seen or heard anything like this before. I can't even remember the last time we saw a storm. Probably would have been a year ago that we had a real serious one but there's something about this one that makes me think this isn't like what we're used to. Just from the way it sounds and looks, I can't recall ever watching a storm that looked and sounded quite like this."

Though Peeta and his father weren't aware of it, what was raging outside at that moment was in fact a storm that happened every year. What they didn't know was that it wasn't a storm that was meant to cause physical damage or to harm even a single person.

It was meant to act as a warning and just as with all the previous storms that had come to pass, this newest tempest was indeed serving as a warning.

"What do you mean?" asked Peeta, somewhat puzzled. "Aren't all storms mostly the same? I mean, they all seem to cause a lot of damage and leave people's homes in pretty bad condition."

"They are mostly," his father told him, watching the sky carefully. "But that first sound I heard that woke me up, I don't really know how to explain it. I just knew that it was part of a storm that wouldn't be normal. District Twelve hasn't seen a storm for some time so maybe we're in for one that'll bring a lot more...power."

"Y-you think the house will be okay?" asked Peeta with concern. Just then, he was hit with an image of their house crumbling to the ground and the idea was so horrid that he shoved it out of his mind. Losing the place that had been his home for sixteen years would be all but a nightmare for him. He simply couldn't bear the thought of their bakery becoming a pile of ashes that would serve as a lonely reminder of the home he'd once lived in.

 _But that wouldn't happen_ , he reminded himself. _It might cause a bit of flooding but only an earthquake could_ _tear down a house_. _Or a tornado._

It wasn't until then that it occurred to him how clearly shaken he was. The crashing, booming and screaming that seemed unbelievably loud had alarmed him to the point where he feared the very thunder itself would leave their house in ruins. Having never heard such a violent, fuming storm before in all his life, his mind could only automatically assume the worst, in spite of what his heart was telling him.

His father put a hand on his son's shoulder and the two locked eyes for a brief moment. Both were sharing the same unavoidable fear that the howling storm outside was forcing onto their shoulders. They could see it in the other's eyes and their fear of this only worsened when there came such a crashing from outside, that both knew the worst was yet to come.

His father took a shaky breath, refocused his attention to the growing storm and answered, "Yeah, I'm sure the house will be fine. Let's just hope we get nothing worse than what's out there right now. So long as there's no flooding, I don't think we've got much to worry about."

"I'm gonna go in the living room," said Peeta, and started for the door. "Get something to eat maybe."

"I'll be here if you need me," his father assured him.

Peeta gave his father a nod, and then hurried out of the room and made his way down the hall. He'd barely gotten to the stairs when he heard yet another booming crash and unlike the last, it felt dreadfully close. Where the last seemed to have been at a much greater distance and certainly not as close to the house, the pounding he had just heard was creeping up on him. It was no longer at a safe enough distance to feel safe and relieved; it was now close enough that Peeta was starting to get nervous. Not that he hadn't been nervous up till then, because he definitely had been. But as the storm raged on while proving its strength and force, the image of their house in ruins kept reappearing in his head and it felt more painful than ever.

He couldn't obsess over it though. So doing his best to ignore the crashing and booming that felt so uncomfortably close, he went as quickly as he could down the hall. Never had he felt himself moving so quickly, and he knew he probably should have been going at a slower pace, but his nerves were only increasing. The fury of the storm was sending chills through his body and all he wanted was to have an even closer look at it. There was only one place in the house where he could stare it right in the face – and that was through their living room window. Of all the windows in the house, it was by far the largest. It took up almost all of one wall and Peeta knew he'd get a perfect, up-close view of the colossal storm.

When he entered the room, he expected to find it empty, but as he instantly noticed, that wasn't the case. He assumed there would be no one but himself there. No way would his mother have allowed her precious sleep to be interrupted, and there wasn't much chance either of his brothers would have felt anxious enough to go and check it out.

But standing on the couch with his hands on the top of the couch...was Rye

His initial reaction was one of confusion because it was rare that Rye ever got out of bed any time past midnight. Once he was flopped down in bed, it was lights out. Once in a while as Peeta recalled, he'd catch Rye awake and sitting on his bed in silence. He'd seen him more than once staring out of his bedroom window. But for the most part, Rye was one that jumped into bed and was asleep in minutes. As to why he'd bothered to come watch the storm at all, Peeta hadn't a clue.

 _That's not like him_ , thought Peeta while he made his way closer to the couch. _He's never out of bed this last at night. Maybe he had to use the bathroom and that's why he's up._

When Peeta was standing only a few feet from Rye, he was met with another surprise. As he looked his brother over more closely, he noticed that Rye's body wasn't moving. The only movement Peeta could make out was the rising and falling of his chest, but even his breathing was deathly silent. What caught Peeta's attention though wasn't how stiff his brother's body was.

It was the look in his eyes. One quick glance at Rye's face and he saw a look he'd never recalled seeing. It wasn't often he saw a look of anxiety on his brother's face but there was no questioning his face was covered in it. Not only that, but his eyes refused to blink and as he went on staring, Peeta saw a sense of fear and disbelief that mirrored what his own eyes were filled with.

"Rye?"

"W-what?" shouted Rye, and immediately turned to see who'd spoken. At once, Peeta saw the fear written all over his brother's face, which had turned white as a ghost in a matter of seconds. He was breathing hard, as if he'd been in the deepest trance and hearing another's voice had startled him to the point where it sounded frightening.

When he saw who it was, however, he growled under his breath and went back to staring out the window.

"You scared too?" asked Peeta quietly, making his way up onto the couch. He placed his hands on the window railing and for whatever reason, the surface felt unusually cold despite the fact that it was only September.

Rye scoffed and said, "Scared? You're kidding right?"

"I'm scared too, Rye," said Peeta nervously. "I've never seen a storm this bad before. And by the look on your face, I doubt you have either."

"I'm not scared!" hissed Rye, giving his brother an irritated look. "I'm not a freakin' wuss like you. What's so bad about a little rain anyway? It just makes everything wet."

"Don't you see what's out there?" asked Peeta incredulously.

With a shake of his head, Rye shot back, "So it's a bit of wind and the trees are shaking? So what? I've seen all that before. That ain't nothing I haven't seen."

"And don't you hear that?" Peeta went on. Instantly, as if to emphasize what Peeta was getting at, there came such a pounding crash that both Peeta and his brother felt like the air had been knocked out of their lungs.

Rye gulped and argued while trying to sound cocky, "So? It's just a storm, idiot. No biggie." He knew he'd failed at presenting himself in his usual cocky behaviour, however. When he'd gotten the words 'no biggie' out of his mouth, there'd been a slight, but unmistakable tremor and he didn't doubt for a second that Peeta had picked up on it.

 _Who cares though?_ he thought, not bothered much by what Peeta would think. _Least I'm not about to wet myself like scaredy-freak over here. I'm not even half the wuss he is. I'm not a wuss, and that's all that matters._

"Well, I'm terrified," said Peeta quietly, knowing there was no use attempting to get through to his brother. "Maybe you haven't thought about this, but what if there's more to come after this? What if we get struck by an earthquake? It's happened before, and it seems to happen a lot more here than in the other Districts. If this storm leads to something worse or this really is the beginning of something else, then everything will be gone and we'll have to start over. I've never imagined what it would be like to lose your home and have to put your life back together again...and it's not a good feeling."

Rye didn't answer to this.

After a long pause, Peeta told him seriously, "Maybe you don't want to admit it, but I know you're scared, Rye. I saw it in your eyes. You can read pretty much any emotion in someone's eyes and I saw fear in yours. I don't know. Maybe you hate admitting that you're scared, and some people are like that. But I'm scared. Yeah, I'm scared of what's out there but I'm more scared about something else."

"Yeah, and what's that?" sneered Rye.

Peeta dropped his gaze and answered worriedly, "What I'd do if I lost my family..."

Rye sighed as if Peeta genuinely annoyed him and said, "So that's it? You're scared of a little old rain, wind, thunder and lightning?" In a much louder voice, he sang, "Rain rain go away! Come again some other day!"

Peeta's only response was to go on staring out the window with a transfixed expression.

"Calm down, loser," laughed Rye, and plopped down on the couch. He then added with mock sympathy, "Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I'll stay here and keep you company. Then if you still think you'll piss yourself, I'll walk you over to your room and tuck you in and maybe I'll even read you a bedtime story. How's that sound pumpkin?"

Rye got no answer from Peeta.

"Well, it's not really a shocker," Rye said with a yawn. "That you'd be like this. Fuck, you looked like you'd wet yourself when you saw me come in the cafeteria! Geez, if something as stupid as getting your beloved little secrets spilled is enough to get you scared, then of course you'd be pissing yourself with something like this. Poor Peeta. First, he gets his love life ruined and then he gets scared of the rain and scary noises outside. What next?"

"It's okay to be scared, Rye," Peeta said, his eyes glued on the outside bedlam. "We're all scared sometimes. I know you try to act like you're not scared, but you don't have to. It's natural to feel worried and—"

"I'm not scared!" said Rye with annoyance, glaring at his brother. "Get that in your head, will ya?"

"Rye, I know what's it like to—"

As if he hadn't heard him, Rye went on, "You're scared! You! Not me. Stop trying to put me on the same lame level as you, because I'm way above that. I don't get scared of nothing, and some wuss like you isn't about to do that, so just shut it. And if you don't, then I'll just knock your brains out and that'll be the end of you, got it?"

Peeta knew there was no use arguing with his brother. Rye just wasn't the kind of person who would ever admit to being scared, and he was just as less likely to admit to ever being wrong, or having made poor decisions. Despite what Rye was saying, Peeta felt like he could somehow make his way past the wall of stone his brother had constructed for so many years. It wasn't so much that he could physically tear down the barrier that guarded his brother, because he wasn't even sure if that was possible. It was more that he could stare into Rye's eyes, watch his body movements and pay even closer attention to the tone of his voice. Even the tiniest signs – blinking his eyes repeatedly, a slight shaking of his body, a quiver in his voice – were all things that suggested to Peeta that what Rye was telling him wasn't in fact the truth. But as long as Rye kept the physical wall in place, then never would he admit to things he firmly believed weren't even remotely true.

While Rye remained on the couch with his feet on the table and hands behind his head, Peeta did nothing but watch as the force of the storm increased. No longer were the branches of the trees blowing in the wind like Peeta had seen them do on ordinary nights. They looked as if they were seconds away from breaking and falling to the ground. It was like the sheer power of the storm might tear them in two as if they were made of straw or paper. No longer was the wind howling like it sometimes and most often did in the dead of night when most were asleep. It was now howling and if Peeta wasn't aware of the growing storm, he might have thought it was some kind of animal. As to what kind of animal, he hadn't a clue because never in his life had he heard such an unsettling sound.

Worse than the intense movement of the trees and shrieking of the wind though was the roaring thunder and flashing lightning. Never did the sky seem to be free of the rumbling or bright flashes that lit up the sky in abnormal patterns. For a few seconds, all would be silent and the sky would return to its dark and murky state. For the shortest moment, Peeta held a small glimmer of hope that just maybe the storm was coming to an end. Perhaps it had run its course and was now losing the power that had allowed it to produce such chaos and mayhem. Just maybe the crashing, booming and pounding that filled his ears and made his skin run cold would vanish entirely and put him in a state of relief.

This wasn't meant to be.

Whatever force that had first triggered the storm was simply refusing to die out. Its unrivalled strength was only increasing and each flash of lightning that lit up the sky seemed so much worse than the last. The streaks of white looked thicker, they remained in the sky for what felt like a lifetime and their appearance suggested to Peeta that such lightning just wasn't normal. It was the same with the booming thunder. It sounded so uncommon and unlike anything he'd ever heard that he was starting to wonder whether it wasn't really coming from giants trampling the ground. Under other circumstances, he would have chuckled to himself at the thought of giants roaming around. But these weren't other circumstances.

Raging on outside was nothing less than the most furious storm his eyes and ears had ever encountered. The endless thunder continued to shake the ground with a startling fury; the flashing lightning broke up the darkened sky and left it blazing with white; the rain was like hammers on the roof where each single drop was pounding against the shingles with enough force that could form holes and flood each room in the house. If the storm had been a living thing, it would have swallowed up every person and creature in sight, leaving not even a single survivor behind; Peeta had no doubt about that.

The two went on observing the storm for close to an hour. Peeta was on his knees with his arms stretched out on top of the couch so as to stare right out the window and stare the rain, thunder and lightning squarely in the face. Rye hadn't budged from his spot in the middle of the couch, though he'd gotten up briefly to get himself a glass of pop and some brownies. Where Peeta couldn't do anything but fix his eyes on the outside commotion, Rye acted just the opposite. He behaved like he wasn't even bothered by the storm's fury. He gulped down his pop, devoured his brownies one by one and even let out a few satisfied belches. The only sound that came from Peeta was his almost silent breathing.

"Mmm, good brownies," said Rye, and proceeded to lick his sticky fingers clean. "Too bad you're too busy watching the stupid weather to get some yourself."

No answer from his brother.

"Pretty awesome too," Rye went on, letting out yet another belch that sounded like it had come out of the mouth of a thirty-year-old man rather than that of a seventeen-year-old. "Definitely hit the spot."

Still no answer from Peeta.

"Hey, you awake up there?" Rye turned and slammed his hand on top of the couch and when he got no response from Peeta, he leaned over and pinched his brother's side.

"Ahh!"

Rye burst out laughing and said with an amused snort, "Loser."

Peeta ignored the insult and returning his focus to the window, said shakily, "That storm's getting worse. I can barely see outside now. The windows are fogging up."

"Aww, is little Peeta scared?" taunted Rye. "Don't worry. I'll go upstairs and get you a nice blankie. I'll tuck you in, get you all warm and cozy and then I'll sing you a lullaby. How's that sound?"

Neither had time to go on speaking because the worst of the storm had officially arrived.


	18. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER 18**

 **SEPTEMBER**

If Rye hadn't truly been afraid of the storm up till then, that wasn't the case anymore. It took all but a single, deafening crash from the rumbling thunder to force him into a state of shock. It was hearing this sound – a crashing that filled his ears and sounded like the world's nastiest storm – that he understood the worry that Peeta was experiencing. Not only that, but the sound had given him such chills that he'd found his voice had vanished. Even if he wanted to go on teasing his brother about what a coward he was, he couldn't. It was like the storm had grabbed hold of Rye's larynx, given it a violent twisting and now he was completely incapable of speaking.

Like Rye, Peeta too felt like his larynx had been destroyed but there was something else he was more concerned about. Still his eyes were trained on the growing chaos outside but what he was now seeing was a sight he'd never laid eyes on before.

Flashing across the sky was an event that he could only describe as impossible. What he expected to see during a storm of thunder and lightning was a few flashes of lightning that lit up the sky but would eventually end, allowing the sky to return to its normal calmness. This wasn't what was happening and Rye and Peeta could only stare in disbelief at what was unfolding. Neither felt quite sure as to how to go about explaining it.

The only way Peeta could illustrate it was comparing it to a typical storm and multiplying it by ten. Where a common storm would include an occasional flash of lightning, this wasn't what his eyes were seeing. As mindboggling as it seemed, what he was seeing was a sky that was enveloped in the most severe and intense streaks of light. No matter what direction he looked in, no matter where he shifted his gaze, all he saw was overwhelming lightning. It flashed everywhere and anywhere and as he stared more carefully, the brightness only seemed to be increasing. He feared it would get so bright that it might shoot right into his eyes and blind him completely. This, of course, didn't happen but that didn't stop Peeta from fearing what this storm might truly be capable of.

"W-what's going on?" asked Rye quickly.

Peeta shook his head and said numbly "I...I don't know."

Rye shot him a nervous look but just as quickly he returned his attention to the many flashes of lightning that filled the sky.

"H-how can there be that much lightning?" said Rye, forcing a large lump down his throat. It was at once replaced by an even bigger lump, but Rye was too stunned by the commotion outside to notice. "That's not even normal! Or possible! A sky can't have that much lightning in it. There's...there's like twenty of them!"

"I don't know," Peeta repeated. He gave Rye a genuinely confused look and said, "But you're right about that. It's definitely not normal."

"Gee, you think?" said Rye sarcastically. He blinked, rubbed his eyes and jumped back down onto the couch. He took a breath and quickly began rubbing his legs with his hands as if trying to get some warmth into them. "Should stop soon though."

Peeta didn't answer.

"Right?" barked Rye impatiently.

His brother only shrugged, closed his eyes momentarily and answered, "I really don't know, Rye. I hope it does but I've never seen a storm like this." In a more quiet tone, he said, "Who knows when it'll stop? What if it's a storm that could go on for hours and—"

"Shut up!" snarled Rye. "You know dam well it's gonna stop. You want it to keep going so you can sit there and stare at it like it's some kind of show? Fine. But you're just a freak, anyway. I bet you'd want it to keep—"

But he was abruptly cut off in mid-sentence by what sounded and felt like the most startlingly powerful roaring the storm was releasing. The streaks of white that flashed outside appeared so dangerously close to their very window that it stunned them both when the glass remained intact. There was no telling what held the greater strength – the blazing lightning or rumbling thunder – but it didn't matter. The point was that the mayhem was reaching a new level of force and as the minutes ticked on, this was proven all to be true.

What Peeta quickly realized though was despite how vigorous of a storm it was, there was something else that would appear just as unsettling. With his eyes so hypnotized by the flashing colors and blustering winds, he wasn't noticing the change in his brother. A mask of pallid white was now covering his face and filling his eyes was such anxiety that anyone who stared into them would have been taken aback. He was entering that familiar state of frozen fear where he was unable to bring himself together to will his body to move. Gone was the color in his face and eyes and from head to toe he was now powerless at moving even an inch from where he was sitting.

It was when Peeta turned to face his brother that he became aware of the sheer terror showing both in his eyes and in the stillness of his body.

"Rye?" he asked nervously.

"S-shouldn't it be s-stopping?" he stammered, speaking more to himself than to Peeta.

Peeta held his shaky gaze and answered, "It should be. It's probably just—"

"B-but it's still going," said Rye, whose lips were now starting to quiver. In a much shakier breath, he uttered, "It's not gonna stop."

"Don't worry, Rye," Peeta assured him, hoping to wipe out the fears he was clearly confronting. "I know it looks bad like it's never gonna stop, but it will."

He got no answer from his brother this time. Instead, he watched Rye give a violent shake of his head as he struggled to take in even a single breath.

"Rye!" said Peeta with force. He reached out for his brother's arm but only got it shoved away. He ignored this and tried bringing his arm around Rye's shoulders but the guy pushed him away as if he was fully contagious. He wanted no part of his younger brother trying to offer him comfort. "Come on man! We're gonna be fine."

Again, all Rye could do was shake his head violently and by now, his breathing was coming in short, forced gasps. Peeta was starting to grow anxious at his brother's sudden shift in behaviour and before he had time to move or say anything else, Rye beat him to it.

Through all the fear flooding through him, his older brother was able to wake up his body. He gave a quick shudder, a loud gasp and reached over to the arm of the couch. Resting on it was a large, thick blanket that was usually kept there but didn't receive much use. It was there for the simple purpose of providing warmth on a cold winter's night for those who wished to get snug and sit in front of a crackling fire. Both Peeta and his father had done this a few times while holding a mug of creamy hot chocolate in their hands but not often was Rye ever one to cover himself in a blanket. He was the one reaching for it now though and as Peeta watched more intently, he saw his older brother's arm trembling. Every part of his body seemed to be in an uncontrollable state of shaking and even when he grabbed hold of the blanket, still he was shuddering.

"Rye, are you—" but Peeta's mouth went instantly dry. It was like the scene in front of him was so unnerving he couldn't even finish the sentence.

His brother was now pulling the blanket closer towards him but eerily, he was still shaking terribly. He was even struggling to keep the material in his grasp because each time his ears were met with the sound of thunder, he panicked. The instant that crashing sound struck him, his body would give an extreme jerk and he'd be forced to cover his head with his hands. But just as quickly he'd regain control, seize the blanket and within a few moments, had it pressed securely against his body. He went on holding it against him only temporarily but it felt like a lifetime for him. All the while he squeezed his eyes shut, pursed his lips and rocked back and forth in a steady, unbroken motion. It was catching sight of yet another flash of light creeping up the wall opposite him that he could no longer handle it.

Without a word, he tightened his grip on the blanket and faster than he'd ever recalled moving...raised it over his head. Aside from his quickened breathing, not a sound was escaping him as he continued to cover and wrap himself in this thick material. Soon, he was entirely enveloped in this blanket but regardless of the fact that he was completely covered, his body hadn't relaxed. If anything, it was now suffering from a random sequence of jolts and twitches that only worsened the louder the storm's howling became.

Even Peeta was starting to feel his body break out in a few noticeable tremors. The sight of his brother now wrapped in a blanket was the last thing he would have expected to see. Yes, he'd picked up on the quiver in his voice and the troubled look on his face, but he hadn't anticipated this. He hadn't predicted his older brother would grow so petrified that he'd have to shield his eyes and entire body from the very storm itself. He figured he would have either went on sitting there worriedly or left to head back up to his room and to the comfort of his own bed. That was a question Peeta found himself pondering about – why Rye had chosen to stay rather than return to his room. Instead of remaining on that couch in front of the roaring and lights, why hadn't he gone to the one place that provided him with what he usually wanted – solitude.

Sitting there observing his brother, he realized the answer was staring him in the face. If he'd been able to, of course Rye would have hurried back to the privacy of his room but there was one obvious thing that had stopped him from doing so – he was afraid. The panic he felt towards everything outside had built up inside him to the point where it was freezing him in place. His feet weren't able to move and as a result, the only option he had was to stay sitting on that couch as the fear continued to make him its prisoner.

While Peeta felt a fair amount of fear inside him as well, he knew there was no doubting that Rye was out and out terrified. Where the flashes of white and sounds of relentless thunder would startle and shake him slightly, it left his older brother trembling wildly. It pained him to see Rye struggling with so much fright and what made it so much worse was that the anxiety had pushed him over the edge. He'd gone from sitting there with his mouth open and eyes widened to rocking back and forth under a blanket. He was in a kind of trance now and Peeta feared if that storm didn't die down sometime soon, there'd be no calming his nerves.

"Rye?" said Peeta, the worry palpable in his voice. He waited and hoped for an answer, but when he got no reply from his brother, he began shifting his way towards him. The two were now sitting side by side – Rye still enveloping himself in the protection of the massive blanket – and Peeta could make out the tremors in his body. In a shakier voice, he went on, "R-Rye, talk to me. Tell me what's going through your—"

"L-leave me alone!" cried Rye in a frenzy. "Just...just leave me alone!"

"I want to help you!" argued Peeta with emotion. "I can see that you're scared and—"

"I'm not!" snarled Rye, swallowing hard as if forcing a giant lump down his throat. "I don't care what you say! J-just go away. Leave me—"

"I'm not leaving you!" said Peeta firmly. He paused briefly and then said with total conviction, "I'm staying right here till the storm's over."

"D-don't need you here," stuttered Rye, taking in a few quick breaths. He inhaled shakily and retorted, "I never needed you h-here a-and I...I still d-don't! So go!"

"I'm not going any—"

"I want you to go...now!" shouted Rye.

"Whether you want me to or not...I'm never leaving you, Rye," said Peeta, his voice cracking both with worry and sympathy. It was then he decided that he could no longer go on sitting there letting his brother fight through his anxiety alone. He had to let him know there was a brother next to him who cared about easing the tension racing through him. But some uneasy feeling was creeping down his spine and staring more closely at Rye, he couldn't help think the guy wanted to hide himself from the world and reality.

Without even hesitating, he then reached out, took hold of the blanket...and began pulling it off his troubled, frightened brother. After having pulled and tugged till it was finally off him, Peeta was deeply startled at what he was now seeing. Up till then, he'd thought the storm to be the most unsettling, disturbing image the night would have to throw at him, but he was quickly proven wrong. The storm was alarming in its own distinctive way but what his eyes were now taking in made him want to wish he was actually dreaming.

When the blanket had still been wrapped around Rye, he'd still been able to make out the shudders and tremors in his body. He hadn't been able to look upon his face and have an idea of just how anxious the storm was making him, but he'd seen a great deal of anxiety showing through his body. Now that the material was off him, he could see plain as day how seriously bothered he was by the raging tempest. The quivering his body was suffering from proved more severe and intense than he'd wanted to believe. The guy no longer had any control over his shivering body and as Peeta had presumed, he was glued to the couch out of absolute fear. All the signs that he'd been traumatized by the storm were right in front of him – dilated pupils, eyes flickering in every direction, breathing that came in short, quick gasps, arms wrapped around the knees, head lowered, a body that was hunched over...and tears streaming down his face.

If ever Peeta hadn't been convinced of it before, he now was. Rye Mellark was downright terrified of this monster of a storm.

"R-Rye!" shouted Peeta, and was starting to feel his own breathing growing unsteady. As quickly as he could, he rose to his feet and shut both curtains in the hopes of blocking out the unremitting lightning. He immediately saw this hadn't done a thing for his brother who was still struggling through a significant amount of dread. "C-come on man! The storm's gonna stop. We're gonna be fine, we just gotta—"

Rye opened his mouth as if he wanted to speak but was silenced by the unpleasant, but familiar sound of screaming, crashing thunder. At once, he gave a shudder that caused his whole body to feel unnaturally shaky and without even thinking, shoved his head in between his legs. Somehow he managed to fight against his own trembling body but even with his eyes closed and facing away from the rage, frighteningly, it felt closer than ever.

"G-go away!" he whined frantically. It was then his younger brother knew that he was now speaking directly to the storm itself. "L-leave me alone! J-just go away!"

Peeta hadn't a clue if his brother was even aware of his presence anymore. The lost, distant look he now wore on his face kept him from truly understanding where his brother's head currently was. The fact that he'd tried to respond to him meant he must have known he was sitting next to him, but did it make any sense to him? Did he actually know who the guy seated beside him was, or did his peripheral vision only take in the image of a cloudy, unrecognizable figure?

Whatever the case, Peeta had to keep speaking to him.

"The storm's gonna let down soon, Rye," Peeta told him, doing his best to sound nothing but reassuring. "It's been going on for a while now so it'll probably be over soon and then we can head back up to bed, okay?"

"Just stop!" quaked Rye, his desperation only intensifying. "L-leave me alone!" In a voice that trailed off into a panic-stricken murmur, he begged, "Please stop!"

"Won't be much longer," said Peeta, keeping his eyes on Rye. It killed him to see him experiencing such fear but as he'd promised him, he wouldn't be going anywhere. "Just gotta wait it out and then it'll be over for good. Then everything will be calm again and...and there'll be nothing to worry about."

Once more he waited to see if Rye would form some kind of response, but he didn't. It seemed like the only thing he was able to focus on was what his ears were hearing and what his eyes were seeing. To him, his surrounding environment consisted only of the sights and sounds coming from the storm and anything else was simply part of another place. For Peeta, all he saw was a guy that was fighting his own fears while doing all he could to lessen the nerves in his body. But he was failing miserably because he still hadn't been able to return his body to a calm, natural state. If anything, his body itself was now in control as it continued to shake and torture him and it wasn't long till he'd fallen over the edge. His younger brother felt convinced this had indeed happened because it was written all over his face.

Rye wasn't just in a state of tears anymore – he was crying. His head was now buried and hidden in his quivering hands and the sound of his snivelling was all too palpable. He was a trembling, frightened mess and it was killing Peeta to see just how alone he looked while sitting there stooped over. So many times he'd seen Rye's fiery, spiteful side and a few times he'd looked upon him to see a sort of cloudiness in his eyes. He'd been shown many sides to his brother – annoying, selfish, nasty and childish – but rarely had he ever seen the guy swept up in a vast sea of terror. He never seemed like the kind of person who'd come out and admit to feeling scared but rather, would boggle it up inside and deny what others were claiming to be true. He was definitely scared though and in a way, Peeta was startling to feel as if the pain Rye was experiencing was becoming his own. To see how badly he was holding it together wasn't a thing he could sit there and not let bother him because it was troubling him greatly. This guy – though a bully to him and an irritating slug – was also family and he wasn't going to let him suffer through this fear in isolation any longer.

What Peeta did next he didn't even hesitate or stop to consider if it would do any good. However it turned out, it didn't matter because it wasn't going to prevent him from at least giving it a shot. All he knew for certain was that Rye was fighting through his tears, shivering terribly and more alone than he'd probably ever remembered feeling. It was evident the guy was trapped in his own secret realm and needed to be assured there was someone beside him who cared. He needed that sense of comfort and company.

That was why Peeta didn't hesitate to lean to his right, wrap his arms around Rye's shoulders...and pull him into a hug. He didn't say a word as he did so because he figured his brother was so far gone and caught up in his own anxiety that he wouldn't have heard him. He might not have been able to pick up on the sound of his voice, but that didn't mean he wouldn't become aware of his brother's physical presence. Something as simple as a hug might have been all he needed to know for certain that he wasn't as alone as he'd led himself to believe.

It came as no surprise to see that Rye's initial reaction to feeling his brother's arms was to give a sudden shudder. It was like his entire body had been shocked into the realization that somebody was attempting to climb past the wall that he'd been hiding behind. Peeta ignored this, however, and let it slide right off his shoulder, as his main concern right then was providing his brother with comfort and company. This was where his mind was at but wanting to and actually soothing the tension in Rye's juddering body were two different things. There was every chance he'd get shoved away and knowing how this guy felt about him, he imagined it was likely about to happen. Even so, he didn't regret having tried to be there for his brother because aside from what went on between them, he still cared about him.

He'd expected to get faced with instant, bitter rejection but much to Peeta's surprise...that wasn't what happened. A quick shiver was all he observed but following this, his body then went on to do something he felt was highly unpredicted. A violent push, shove or demand from Rye that he get the hell away from him and vanish out of the room all would have been normal, but that wasn't what he was seeing. While keeping his arms firmly around his brother's shoulders, he felt a sort of calmness settling over him. Where just moments ago his body had been quaking as if it had been hit by an inner explosion, it was now slowly but noticeably starting to relax. It crossed his mind that perhaps he was seeing things and Rye hadn't calmed down even a little, but no tricks were being played on his eyes. His brother wasn't reacting in a way that would have confirmed to him that he wanted to pummel him and get him as far away from him as he could.

As out of the blue and as hard to believe as it was, the tension in Rye's body was fading away...all because a pair of arms were now wrapped around him. The stress that had been consuming him was getting wiped out because a sense of comfort was beginning to grow. Peeta considered trying to calm his brother down even more by speaking to him, but there was no question the guy's nerves were on their way to winking out. Maybe they wouldn't be erased entirely but even if he could succeed in calming him down a little, it would be something.

The two stayed like this for nearly ten minutes – Rye with his arms wrapped around his legs while Peeta kept his wrapped securely around his brother's shoulders. Neither spoke a word and as Peeta quickly realized, they didn't need to. The silence existing around them was acting as a sort of comfort in itself but all the while Peeta couldn't help wonder what Rye was thinking. Had he been so taken aback by feeling Peeta closing in on his space that he simply couldn't bring himself to move? Was the storm still holding a power over him and preventing him from opening his mouth or budging even a little? Or – and Peeta hoped this was the truth – was Rye feeling comforted enough by the presence of his brother that he preferred to be in no other room but the one they were in?

He could have gone on pondering about this for hours if not for the fact that Rye was refocusing his attention from the storm to Peeta. He shifted his gaze from the flashing lights on the wall to his right where he caught Peeta's eyes watching him carefully. He stared into them for some while and without fully knowing what he was doing, found himself wanting to speak.

"So you think it'll die down?" he asked softly, not moving his eyes from Peeta.

Peeta nodded and with honesty in his voice, told him, "For sure. Storms can't last forever. I know this one seems like it's gonna go on and on but it's gotta be ending soon."

"I hope so," said Rye, still in that soft, hushed tone.

"Don't worry," said Peeta reassuringly, relieved and glad to see that at last his brother's body was free of the constant quivers. "Won't be much longer."

"Not much longer," Rye repeated, absorbing his brother's words and repeating them once more in his head.

"Exactly," said Peeta.

Rye gave a slow nod and paused briefly before continuing. He then said half to himself and half to Peeta, "You're right. It's probably almost over and then all that noise will be gone."

"It'll be ending soon," Peeta told him assuredly.

"It will," said Rye in agreement and bit by bit the calmness was returning in his voice. "Gonna be over soon."

What happened next struck Peeta as the most incredible thing yet, for it wasn't a thing he would have guessed his brother would do. After Rye had gone quiet, he and Peeta's eyes had met the other's and for the first time in years, an odd, unfamiliar feeling swept over his younger brother. Staring into his brother's chocolate-brown eyes, he didn't see the usual flames that told him he was angry and ready for a fight. He knew that look in his eyes too well but as the two locked eyes, he felt he was noticing something his eyes had never been shown before. The fiery rage that often filled his eyes was darkening and leaving was the flaming orange and red that marked him as wild. In both his eyes right then was a stillness and calmness that couldn't have been mistaken for anything else but that. Taking in the overall change of expression on his face only confirmed that because gone was the clenched teeth and evident rage.

"Thanks for calming me down," said Rye appreciatively. Peeta could see he was allowing the calmness to spread over him and he knew the tremors and frights he felt from the storm were washing away.

"You don't have to thank me," said Peeta genuinely. "I couldn't stand to see you that scared and—"

"No, I do," said Rye, cutting him short. "You didn't have to do what you did. So I...I just wanted to say thanks."

Peeta rolled those words around in his head and answered sincerely, "You're welcome."

For a second time, the two shared eye contact and Peeta felt the most amazing thing might actually be happening...his brother was choosing to end their current relationship. The idea had occurred to him when he'd first approached Rye but it was now appearing more probable the more he saw from him. He'd first considered it when his brother had allowed him to wrap him in a hug in a show of comfort and company. As shocking as it had been, Rye had allowed Peeta to give him this company without once shouting he move away from him. The second thing that was making him believe more and more that it was possible was the fact that Rye had opened up to him through conversation. He'd left his place of isolation to speak with Peeta not in his regular arrogant, shouting and snippy tone but in a voice that sounded calm and relaxed.

It was the third thing – and this left him so stunned he thought he might never be able to speak for the longest time – that made him reflect on this possibility. It didn't involve how calm and relaxed his brother's body had become or how he'd decided to talk with the guy who'd stayed by his side since the storm had first hit.

While staring into his brother's eyes, Peeta had noticed movement and when he'd seen it for what it really was, he immediately dismissed it as nothing. He'd then redirected his attention to the calmness in Rye's eyes but when he'd seen it once more out of the corner of his eye...he knew it was real. It was weird because one part of him was convinced it was another trick but another was tugging at his heart and telling him repeatedly, " _It's real and no trick_." Of course he wanted to believe it was real but that other side of him wouldn't stop nagging and demanding that he ignore and forget it. His curiosity won him over though and when he ultimately understood that what he was seeing was real...all he wanted was to sit there and cry.

His reason for wanting to cry was because the brother that punched, kicked, teased and pushed him around every day for so many years...was smiling. What had began as a small tugging at the corners of his lips had grown into a full, authentic smile that lit up his entire face. This one, single smile could have made anyone think he was a friendly, pleasant kind of guy and not the spiteful, nasty character he actually was.

When Peeta's eyes first caught sight of this smile, he went into a sudden state of shock. Even when he'd blinked and looked again at his brother's face, still the smile was there. He was so shocked that even if he'd wanted to say something, it would have been useless. He was now at the point where he was totally speechless and all he could do was sit there in silence while staring at Rye, as dumbfounded as he'd ever felt. His mouth even opened a little and though he wasn't aware of it, somewhere inside him he had the feeling the shock was showing all over his face. The only times he'd ever seen Rye break out in a smile was when he was shoving grief onto Peeta's shoulders.

It was, and it wasn't long till he knew Rye was aware of this. The smile on his face vanished and replacing it was a look of both confusion and curiosity. The expression lingered only shortly though because all too soon, Rye was giving his head the slightest shake. Without uttering a word, he shook his head slightly as if getting hit with an unpleasant taste of reality that gave him the worst possible feeling. It didn't take much for Peeta to figure out why his expression had changed so hastily because knowing Rye, it was only a matter of time till reality settled in. He hated that things had to be that way, but he couldn't alter his brother's behaviour no matter how hard he tried.

Only a single, dazed word came out of Rye's mouth and that was, "No." He then gave Peeta a rough, forceful shove and while still staring at him with widened eyes, demanded, "Stay the hell away from me! Y-you're trying to mess with me and make me feel stupid and I'm not letting you!"

"Rye, don't—"

"No!" his brother snapped, clenching his hands and taking a deep breath. "It...it wasn't."

"Rye, I saw it," said Peeta calmly. "I saw you smiling. You can't hide what I just—"

"No you didn't!" growled Rye defiantly and his voice was rising once more to an angered shout. "You're just trying to tell me stuff that isn't true! You're a liar and you always have been! Trying to make me feel stupid and...and it doesn't matter. You saw nothing and you know dam well you didn't see anything."

"But Rye, I just saw you—"

"No you didn't!" he hissed, glaring at Peeta with increasing annoyance. "You're just seein' things."

"You know that's not true."

"It dam well is true!" he snarled. "So why don't you just shut up and accept it?"

"Why are you trying to deny it?" asked Peeta, bemused. "You know I just saw you smiling and I guarantee you knew you were too so why try and argue it?"

Rye's only answer was to go on glaring at Peeta.

"You don't have to be so angry Rye," said Peeta softly. "I wish you'd let go of the anger and just...be yourself and not have to feel like I'm the bad guy or something. I know you think I am but I'm not. I wanna be there for you but I can't do that if you won't let me."

After a long and awkward pause, Rye responded bitterly, "I don't care what you say. You're a fuckin' liar who thinks he's right about everything. Well guess what? You saw nothing and I don't give a crap that you think I was scared of that storm because I wasn't! It was all a joke to get you to do exactly what you did so how do you like that? Now look who's the idiot?"

"You were scared, Rye!" said Peeta firmly. "There's no way you'd get me to believe that was all an act and—"

"Well it was!" hollered Rye, ignoring his brother's remark. "And you know what? It doesn't matter what you think because you don't matter! I wasn't scared and that smile you thought you saw from me...it wasn't real loser! Just some lame old thing you saw in your mind! It ain't real though, sorry to say. Hate to break that messed-up little heart of yours but you need a punch in the head if you want reality. And reality is that you're way messed up in the head."

With that, he got up and stormed off in a huff.

"Rye!" Peeta called.

"Freak!" shouted Rye, disappearing up the stairs and out of his younger brother's sight.

"Rye, come on!" Peeta called after him, but he knew it was futile.

His brother was tired, angry and confused to the point where all he wanted was to get away from the roaring thunder, flashing lightning...and Peeta. What he wanted was bed, and that was exactly where he was heading. He'd spent enough time observing the storm and he wasn't going to sit around letting the sounds send him into panic. It was back to his room and under the covers for him. Arguing with Peeta had drained all the energy out of him and even if he'd wanted to carry on fighting, he knew he wouldn't have been up to it. The storm had worn him out and all he was able to do now was get his body into bed, shut his eyes and hope sleep would come.

Peeta, on the other hand, was anything but tired.

For the next half hour he continued watching multiple streaks of lightning zig zag their way across the sky. Even if he wanted to forget about the storm and head upstairs to bed, he wasn't sure if his feet would let him. It was like they were glued to the couch and until the chaotic events outside came to an end, he'd spend the rest of the night with his eyes staring through their living room window. He hoped the lightning and thunder would die soon enough because bed was starting to sound extremely tempting. His eyes were now droopy; his head kept dropping; his legs had fallen asleep, and it felt like all the circulation in his body had gone cold.

He was seconds from dozing off right there on the couch when his eyes caught sight of something. For the past few minutes, he'd held up hope that the storm was finally ending, but there was still one more event to be observed. It lasted for only a few seconds but this felt like a lifetime for Peeta.

The sky became dark and Peeta was under the impression that both the lightning and thunder were coming to an end. This was far from the truth as he soon realized. For the shortest time the vast sky returned to its dark and shadowy color. During this time, there wasn't a single booming of thunder or flashing of lightning. Not a star could be seen in the sky and even the trees were appearing difficult to make out. Everything appeared to be hidden in a world of blackness and Peeta took this as a sign that the storm was indeed coming to an end.

Before he had time to turn and make his way upstairs though...the silence was broken. The stillness and darkness that had just been had winked out entirely and its place was chaos once more. Resurfacing from the gloom of the shadows was one final round of thunder and lightning. Unlike what he and Rye had just witnessed though – an impossible number of bolts lighting up the sky – his eyes were taking in something else.

It was happening directly in front of his house. Appearing brighter than any of the previous bolts of lightning he and his brother had seen were five single streaks of light. Like what his eyes had been exposed to earlier, this lightning proved just as intense, just as brilliant and just as fierce. Along with the overwhelming emergence of flashing lightning was the reappearance of deep, rumbling thunder and as with the lightning, his ears heard exactly five of these rumbles. Without realizing it, goosebumps began forming on his skin and it wasn't because of the brightness of the lightning or intensity of the thunder.

It was because of how disturbingly close it all was to his family's home.

 _It's...it's like it's right in front of us_ , thought Peeta. He stared harder and despite how impossible it seemed, he could have sworn the storm itself was creeping its way right up to his house. _Maybe it's not and I'm just seeing things but that_ 's _not far away. That's close and we're gonna be in trouble if that gets any closer._

The single, overriding thought in his mind was: _what if our home gets struck?_ The very image of that occurring was too horrible for Peeta to consider, so he shoved it out of his head completely and told himself their home would remain untouched and more importantly, he and his family wouldn't be harmed. That calmed him slightly, but there was still no ignoring what was in front of him, and that was the continuing storm. What made him more uncomfortable was the fact that the lightning and thunder refused to wink out. It lingered in the sky for what felt like minutes to Peeta, though really it was only for a moment or so.

Eventually the mayhem came to an end. The zigzagging of lightning vanished, as did the roaring thunder that shook the ground. Peeta had wondered if the commotion would ever come to an end but it finally did, and all that was left of the fading storm was the steady rainfall. Gone were the chaotic events that had forced Peeta to stay standing on the couch till it had all ended. He could now hurry back up to bed, crawl under the covers and forget about all the fears he'd had while watching the outside madness.

When he was on his side in bed with the covers wrapped around him, Peeta let the comfort and warmth bring him back to the place he loved so much – and that was dreamland. While dozing off, his ears were freed of sounds of thunder and the silence in his room was all but soothing. With his eyes closed to the world, no longer did he have to gaze upon a sky that was filled with endless lightning. He was once again welcomed to peaceful, tranquil sleep.

Peeta, Rye and their father hadn't been the only ones to observe the storm, however.

Katniss and her little Prim had also watched the blazing lightning and deafening thunder. Their sleep had been disrupted around the same time as Peeta's, and like him, they'd gotten out of bed to go see what exactly was going on outside. It came as much of a shock to them as it had to Peeta when they were met with the sight of a rampant storm. Katniss felt uneasy watching the commotion unfold, but it was Prim who felt like her whole body was freezing up.

"We're going to be okay, right Katniss?" said Prim anxiously. "That storm looks really bad."

"We'll be okay, Prim," she told her sister reassuringly. "I know it looks bad and—"

"But listen!" Prim went on. "Hear how loud that is? I've never heard rain or thunder like that."

Just then, Buttercup had entered the room after having had a quick bite out of his dish. His eyes fell on Prim and at once he began trotting up to her with what looked like a smile on his face. He leaped up onto the couch and rubbed up against her, but his mood instantly changed. One moment he was purring contently and rubbing his head against Prim's leg, but his delighted mood had just been turned inside out.

He jumped up onto the top of the couch and fixed his eyes on the outside chaos. His tail stopped flicking from side to side; every hair on his body was standing on end and escaping from his mouth was a deep, throaty growl. Watching the cat's behaviour, Prim found her nerves increasing greatly. It wasn't often that Buttercup would act like this. The only person he hissed and swiped at was Katniss, but never in his life had he actually harmed her. The eerie look in his eyes suggested that he wanted to charge right out into the heart of the storm and engage in a fight.

"Even Buttercup's scared," Prim said shakily, now looking to her sister. "He never acts like that, Katniss. Not even around you. He must sense something's wrong. Maybe he can sense things we can't and he knows that storm's going to bring trouble."

Katniss didn't respond; she only went on staring at Prim as if in a daze.

"Katniss, that's not like him!" said Prim, putting her hand on Buttercup's head. The cat relaxed slightly, but went on glaring at the raging storm while growling under his breath. It wasn't until a particularly loud crashing of thunder had occurred that his ears went back and he began hissing repeatedly.

"I know," Katniss agreed, and said with more certainty while keeping her eyes on the storm, "But storm's always look and sound worse than they really are. It'll probably last the night and then come morning, it'll be gone."

"You think?" said Prim, wanting to believe what her sister was telling her.

"Definitely," said Katniss. She then turned, got down off the couch and made her way out of the room. "Might as well head back to bed."

"I don't think I'll be going back to sleep with that going on," said Prim, referring to the roaring and booming of the storm.

"Maybe not," said Katniss. "But it's pretty late. We should get back to bed."

Prim stared out their living room window only a moment longer before sweeping Buttercup up in her arms and following her sister upstairs. If the two had decided to stay for just a few seconds longer, they would have been surprised to see the sky had gone entirely dark. This, as they would have seen, would have lasted for only a short time. Following this, they would have witnessed exactly five bolts of lightning in the sky and along with this, five rumbles that would cause the ground to quiver and shudder. It all would have been there for them to see and though it would have been all but alarming, it wasn't what they had to feel worried about.

Like Peeta, it wasn't the physical violence of the storm Katniss had to concern herself with. Yes, the lightning, thunder and rain combined had proved truly intimidating, but their aim wasn't to cause damage to people and their homes. The rain didn't want to cause a flooding; the thunder wasn't out to create deep trembling in the ground, and the flashes of lightning didn't care to strike anyone. Everything that had made up the storm had been there only to serve as a warning to all the people in District Twelve.

Though both weren't aware of it, what Peeta and Katniss really had to watch out for wasn't the physical storm they'd just witnessed.

What they had to watch out for was the storm that was Gale Hawthorne.

It was a storm that was still forming and growing, but it was well on its way. It wouldn't be long till it was fully set in motion and once that happened, it would be all but unstoppable. It would be a storm that would be capable of far more aggression, power and fury.

Neither even knew of this storm and the fact that it was fast approaching.

But it was...and there would be absolutely no chance of escaping it once it was unleashed.


	19. Chapter 19

**CHAPTER 19**

 **SEPTEMBER**

Besides having been sucked into a nightmare where Gale had once again taken the form of a vicious hawk and slashed at Peeta's body mercilessly, he was treated with a pleasantly relaxing sleep. Once the encounter with the torturous nightmare had ended and his sense of helplessness and vulnerability had left him, he'd fallen into a peaceful slumber. For the rest of the night, he'd dreamt only of him and Katniss sitting down by the lake. So many comforting images had stayed with him in the later hours of the night and he wished he could have stayed in them for hours longer.

When he awoke, he glanced over and saw the morning sun peaking through his window; he could feel the warmth of its rays as if they were shining directly on him. It was a welcoming sight and made Peeta wonder if today might just turn out alright in spite of all the worry he'd been battling with over the past few hours. And he still had his father's advice to keep in mind. He still remembered it, word for word, which had been: _If you love something so deeply, then no matter what fears and doubts you have, you_ _have_ _to fight for it. If you have a chance to speak with Katniss then despite how nervous you are, you take it._ _If things look dark, look for a light because you'll never know when one might show up._ At the same time, he also recalled what his father had reminded his son, which was: _You do whatever you can, but just know that even the strongest of efforts aren't always enough._

 _Even if what happens later isn't what I hoped_ , thought Peeta, getting up and gazing out his window. _I'm still going to let her know how I feel. No more hiding my feelings and standing off to the sides._ _My father told me not to make the same mistake as him, which was to do nothing and hope what you love simply comes to you._ _He said that's not how it works. Sometimes it happens, but most often it doesn't. So even if this ends badly and she wants to call off our friendship...I'm still telling her I_ _love_ _her._

He dug through his dresser and pulling out a clean t-shirt, jeans and underwear, quickly got changed. He took a few minutes to make up his bed before leaving his room, knowing his mother would give him a hard time if he didn't. She hated having to clean up after other people, especially when her seventeen-year-old son rarely ever made up his own bed. Before going downstairs, he hopped in the shower and was in and out in less than five minutes. He usually stayed in for a few minutes longer but he was so anxious and excited to leave the house, go to school and then head down to the lake that enjoying a shower was about the last thing on his busy mind. Any other time he'd be in no hurry at all to step out from under the warm, steamy water but this was an important day.

When he got downstairs he saw the table was already set for breakfast. His mother and father were already seated and waiting for Peeta, Rye and Luchi to join them. Peeta took a seat next to his father, who gave Peeta the smallest of a smile that was secretly saying, " _Good look, son_." In a moment, Rye and Luchi arrived and the five sat down to a breakfast of crunchy toast with strawberry jam, scrambled eggs and crispy, well-cooked bacon.

Like always, Peeta, Luchi and his parents ate mostly in silence whereas Rye simply couldn't keep his mouth shut long enough to chew and swallow his food. He kept on babbling about everything and anything and as usual, he spoke louder than what was necessary. Rather than speak in a calm and normal tone as most would, he shouted as if no one at the table could make out what he was saying. It always amazed Peeta how loud of a talker he was. The fact that he and his family were all sitting right next to him made no difference because he still went on rambling just as loudly.

"Why can't I just stay here and eat more of this?" whined Rye sulkily, speaking more to himself than anyone else. He was dipping a particularly large piece of bacon in the puddle of ketchup on his plate, but not bothering to raise it to his mouth. What he wanted was to go on moping, and he was doing a remarkably good job at it. "Stupid classes. All we ever do is sit there and—"

"Stop rambling and eat your breakfast, Rye!" snapped his mother irritably. She shook her head in annoyance and tried focusing on the food on her plate. "The sooner you get that plate cleaned, the sooner you can be off to school. You don't need to sit here talking with your mouth full. It's no wonder you take so long to eat. You do far more talking than you do eating. Now get eating so you can head over to school."

"Not like I wanna go," he argued under his breath. "It's all boring anyway. Everyday it's boring. Boring this, boring that. It's all the same. Boring, boring, boring and just to make it worse they make it even more boring, boring, boring—"

"Enough, Rye!" his mother barked, and gave him one of her cold, icy stares. With that one single stare, her son instantly shut up and returned his focus to the food on his plate. "You'll have all the time in the world to talk when you get home. And yes, I know school's not the funnest thing in the world but everyone else has to go and that includes you. You're no exception when it comes to education. So just finish your breakfast and get going."

Rye groused while jabbing his fork into the eggs on his plate, but he was wise enough to quit his complaining.

With a quick look to Peeta, she told her youngest son, "You too!" Unlike with the tone she'd used to shut Rye up, her voice was far stricter and no way was Peeta going to consider arguing with her. That would have only resulted in a smack in the face or a serious scolding.

"Almost done, Mom," Peeta assured her, swallowing an especially large piece of toast. "Just a few more bites." He had to force it down his throat with a glass of juice but sitting there taking his time was never an option. Prompt and swift was what she wanted at breakfast and wasn't something that was asked but rather, was expected.

"Good," was all she said, and not another word was spoken. The only sounds from that point on were the constant scrapings of forks on one's plate and the crunching of toast.

Within twenty minutes, the table was cleared and Mr. Mellark and his wife were busy washing and drying dishes and putting them away. Once that was finished and the room was all tidied up, they went downstairs and with Luchi's help, rearranged a few things before opening the bakery. It was going to be another normal day for the three of them and most likely for Rye as well but for Peeta, it was going to be a day that was anything but normal.

The hundred or so butterflies in his stomach confirmed that.

He didn't stand around focusing too much on that though, so he gathered up his books, put his bag over his shoulder and feeling both curious and frightened as to what the day might hold, made his way out the door.

The walk to Madderson High felt somehow different for Peeta. Where most times it felt longer than it actually was, today it seemed different and shorter almost. His surroundings as he observed were much quieter as if everything around him had been turned down a notch. In the early hours of the morning, he'd usually hear the singing of birds, the rustling of the wind in the trees or the sound of a neighbour's dog barking close by, there was none of that today. It was a calm and peaceful silence and for reasons that he wasn't quite sure of, it felt somehow comforting. Maybe the tranquil environment was doing something to wipe out all the doubts and questions he had about what events would unfold a few hours from then. Whatever it was, he was glad to be met with such a soothing silence and felt certain it would indeed help him feel more optimistic as the day went on.

 _Well, no turning back now_ , thought Peeta, already thinking ahead to what might happen down by the lake. _Just a few classes and then...I open up my heart to her._ So many possibilities were racing though his mind and he hoped he wouldn't go drifting off halfway through class. He knew Mr. Odair wouldn't have minded much but with teachers like Boggs and Coin, it was wise to leave daydreaming till after class. He and more than a few other students had learned this all too quickly within their first week of high school.

 _I_ t was when he was ten minutes away from Madderson High that he noticed someone. It wasn't often that he ever ran into people because most students at his school either drove if they had their licence or took the bus. Out of the few thousand people that attended Madderson High, only about thirty of them walked. But there was indeed a person walking along the familiar path he always took with his hands shoved in his pockets, appearing both tired and bored.

It took him all but a few seconds to recognize who it was.

Just up ahead of him walking at an unusually slow, unhurried pace was his brother Rye. It was impossible to miss the navy blue knapsack, and long strands of blond hair that looked like they should have been cut days ago that would always be falling over his eyes. Not only that, but what with how skinny of a guy Rye was, Peeta could have been standing thirty feet away from him and still it would be difficult to mistake him for somebody else. A fair amount of the guys that attended the school were in decent shape with a good amount of muscle to their bodies, but Rye was just the opposite. He was "skinny as a rake with a speedy metabolism" as their mother commonly put it with very little muscle and nowhere the kind of build he or Luchi had.

It was rare that Peeta ever caught sight of his brother heading to school, at least not this early in the morning. Normally, he was the kind of guy that would leave home early so as not to show up to school late and if he had any, to finish up any last bit of homework from the previous night. As for Rye, that was never in his interest. He didn't care one way or the other if he showed up late to class, and cared more about sleeping in, taking unnecessarily long showers and stuffing his face with as much breakfast as he could. For him, those were all things that held far more importance to him than sitting himself down in a chair in a class he didn't even like. While Peeta was a guy that attended every class and was always keeping up with his note-taking and homework, Rye would skip class whenever he pleased and wasn't too concerned with the fact that he was a procrastinator when it came to getting homework done on time.

Though he hadn't expected to see Rye on his way to school so early, that didn't mean he was going to stay behind and let his brother keep on walking in silence. He knew Rye had always made his way to school alone, especially considering that he almost always woke up late, but something was triggering in Peeta's head. Whether it was in his mind or in his heart, he wasn't entirely sure but the longer he thought about it, the more he was convinced...it was coming from his heart. Too many times it went pulling at his mind but there was never any use ignoring it. If there was anything worth listening to that might help lead him in the right direction, it was his own heart.

Without hesitating, he quickened his pace, broke out into a light jog and hurried after his brother.

"Rye!"

The guy heard Peeta's voice and knowing he'd soon catch up to him, rolled his eyes and gave a light sigh. Within a few seconds, Peeta had caught up to his brother. He took a moment to quickly catch his breath after having broken out in a sudden run and then said in a friendly tone, "Hey Rye."

"Oh, look," said Rye, giving Peeta his usual up and down look. "It's the pest." _Of course he'd want to follow me to school. Should have known. Still don't get why he bothers me anyway. Not like it ever achieves anything. Why can't he just mind he's own friggen' business?_

"That bacon was really good, wasn't it?" asked Peeta. "Not too crispy and that bit of ketchup really made it perfect. Wish we could have it more often. I know it's kind of fatty and maybe not the best thing in the world for you, but it's perfect with toast and eggs."

Rye raised a brow sceptically and said in agreement, "It was delicious. Too bad I couldn't have sat there all morning filling my gut with fifty pieces. No, just have to leave and go to a school and a class I don't even want to. Yaaayyy. I'd rather have spent the morning in the shower or in bed but oh no. Gotta get my ass up and over to school to get the old brain going. And even worse, I get my lameass brother trailing behind me like some freakin' bug that won't leave me alone. Perfect start to what's gonna be a not so perfect day."

Peeta watched his older brother closely, and then said more quietly, "How are your classes going anyway? Are you liking your classes? Are there any you like, or do you find them all boring?"

Rye shrugged and groaned, "Doesn't matter. They're all the same. Math's about as boring and crappy of a class as I've ever taken and—"

Peeta chuckled lightly and said, "I know! Math's just all numbers to me and I know it's important, but I can never make sense of it all. It's so confusing, you know? Equations, formulas, word problems, graphing, algebra. I don't know how anyone could find it easy. I know when I first looked over some word problems, I thought, 'Doesn't look too bad. How hard can it be?' Then I work through them and got more than half of them wrong. It's just so confusing. I swear that's stuff's written in Latin and that's why it's so alien."

Rye gave him a suspicious glare and added, "Confusing...right. I could think of a few thousand other words to describe how truly pathetic of a class it is, but whatever."

"So what classes do you have besides math?"

"Well, if you really wanna know that badly," said Rye with an exaggerated snort. "Geography and English."

"Lucky," said Peeta. "Wish I was in English."

Rye scoffed and spat out, "And why's that loser? What's so great about English?"

"Don't you like it?" said Peeta, slightly puzzled. "You get to write all kinds of stuff and read interesting books instead of writing notes all the time and —"

"Blah, blah, blah!" yawned Rye, and with a roll of his eyes, he snickered, "That's all boring. Just as boring and stupid as math and all those stupid equations. Equations, essays, what's the difference? It's all torture. How you see any of that as fun is beyond me but then again, you've always been one to be no fun at all. You just like all the boring stuff like painting and writing about crap that doesn't even matter. So much of your time you waste when you could be doing so much more."

There was a long pause, and then Peeta said softly, "Rye?"

"What?" his brother snapped. He gave him another one of his annoyed, steely glares but then swiftly averted his gaze back to the ground. By now, he wasn't paying much attention to where he was stepping and without realizing it, was approaching a particularly large stone. As he continued along the grassy path with his head down, his foot struck the stone and as a result, he almost went tripping over his feet. If not for his quick reflexes, he would have lost his balance for sure.

When he saw the stone lying there in the grass, he growled in frustration and without even thinking, kicked it as hard as he could. The tiny rock went sailing through the air and as he watched it land somewhere over in a patch of gravelly dirt, he growled again and went on glaring at it for close to a minute. He was shaking his head in aggravation and when he finally regained his composure to where it had been just previously, he turned around. Standing there watching him was Peeta and the image of his brother staring at him was enough to get him growling all over again.

"Should have stayed in bed," he muttered while clenching his teeth.

"You okay?" asked Peeta empathetically.

"What's your problem!" shouted Rye and spat out in resentment, "Yeah, so I almost fell? Big fuckin' deal! You see me on the ground? See any bleeding? See me hurt? Passed out? Then shut the hell up! Just...shut...up!"

"Just making sure you're okay—"

"I said I'm okay! Let it go, will ya?"

There was a brief pause and then Peeta asked tentatively, "Rye?"

Rye chuckled in provocation and then hollered out, "What? What do you want Peeta? What! What? What? What's so friggen' important that you gotta keep nagging me? Huh? What's on that messed up mind of yours? Spit it out! Tell the whole goddam world while you're at it! I'll bet it's begging to hear."

Peeta gave a quiet sigh and asked curiously but with a touch of discernible sadness, "Why can't we get along?"

Rye shook his head and said, amused, "You know the answer to that one, freak. Don't tell me you forgot. I've only told you about a million times. You think it would have sunk in by now but nah, you're so much of a blockhead that it goes in one ear and out the other."

He smirked and grunted, "Figures."

"Rye, I'm serious," insisted Peeta sombrely. He lowered his gaze to his feet on the ground, then refocused his attention on Rye who was now staring straight ahead. It was clear he was now avoiding making any form of eye contact with his little brother. "Why don't we get along? Why do we always have to be like this? I really want us to get along and to—" but it was like the words had vanished and were no longer there. It was one of those times when he found that he simply wasn't able to speak what was on his mind because a cloud of emotions had gotten in the way.

"To what, cupcake?" asked Rye with mock sympathy. "What do you want? Huh? What does your lame little heart desire?" _Coming from this guy, this should be good._

Ignoring his brother's harsh affront, Peeta kept his eyes glued on Rye as he uttered softly, "To be friends."

There was a long pause and in that short time Peeta's eyes remained only on Rye. His brother, however, was now staring at him with an expression that suggested he'd just grown an extra head. A grin was tugging at the corner of his lips and for a few seconds, he actually had to keep from bursting out laughing. It was like the very words that had come out of Peeta's mouth were on the verge of sending him into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. He then scratched his head, crossed his arms and looked once more at Peeta while wearing one of his familiar grins.

"So let me get this straight," said Rye, and still the conceited grin hadn't left his face. He let a chuckle escape him and then went on haughtily, "You want me, one of the coolest and most amazing guys at Madderson High, to be friends with a rat like yourself? Me? Rye Mellark? Was I really hearing that right or am I going insane?"

"I just don't understand what's stopping us from being friends," said Peeta in confusion. Though his voice was filled with palpable sadness, it made no difference to Rye who couldn't have cared less what mood his brother was in. "We're brothers. I think we'd be great friends if you'd give us a chance." In a much softer voice, he added, "If you'd give me a chance."

Rye strolled up to his brother, gave him a phony smile and a light pat on the shoulder.

"Oh, Peeta," he whistled, and then gave an overdramatic, superior chuckle. "Some of the things you say are just too classic. You're funny, I'll give you that. Funny as hell. If there's anyone that can say the most ridiculous things, it's you bro. You talk like a turd and think like a fool." The smile instantaneously fell from his face and with an arrogant smirk, he told him with certitude, "As for your question, I've got one word for you so you'd better listen closely." He leaned in close to Peeta's ear and with a disgusted look on his face, snarled viciously, "NO!"

Peeta's response was go on staring at him in silence. As for Rye, his reaction was to break out into a full on fit of laughter. He watched him as if what he was seeing was a show that had been put on specifically for him but just as speedily, he turned and continued sauntering down the grassy path. He felt sure he'd gotten rid of Peeta by now, and was all set to carry on to Madderson High the rest of the way in silence, when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. It took only a few seconds for that sound to reach his ears and when it did, Rye broke out in a loud, exasperated growl.

Peeta wasn't giving up.

"I don't get it!" he shouted. Once more he was walking alongside his brother, but Rye was now increasing his pace with the hopes of losing his brother. Ditching him and leaving him in the dirt was all he wanted right then. He wasn't aware though of just how far Peeta would be willing to go to get answers out of him, but getting answers out of Rye Mellark was about the world's most difficult task. As he'd learned all too well, it was a gruelling, tiring and discouragingly hopeless task. "What do you mean we can't be friends? Nothing makes sense about us, Rye. You, me. Nothing makes sense. It's all just a big blur to me and if it's blurry to you, I really wish you'd tell me. I've got a million questions, and no answers. I just want you to help me out so I don't feel so lost."

"And I'm supposed to care because...?"

"You're my brother, Rye," said Peeta, and anyone could have heard from his voice alone just how badly he wanted to break down the wall that had been put into place between he and Rye. Not only that, but there was an obvious frown on his face that spoke volumes and it was a frown his brother had seen too many times. He was used to that look on Peeta's face and he'd lost count of how many times he'd looked upon his younger brother's face only to see it in a frown.

"So?"

"What do you mean so?" asked Peeta, flabbergasted. "Does that not mean anything to you? Does the fact that we're family not even matter?"

"I don't know," said Rye, sounding bored. After giving his brother the finger and spitting on his shoes multiple times, he asked him, "You tell me."

Peeta sighed in defeat and before he had time to say anything else, Rye broke out laughing yet again.

"Admit it," said Rye in arrogance. "You finally realize you're not good enough to be friends with someone like me. You're dirt under my shoes, Peeta. Nothing more. If you really think two people as completely different as us can ever possibly be friends...then you're dreaming. We're black and white; night and day; polar opposites. Get what I'm saying?"

"But, Rye, we—"

"You and I," interrupted Rye and with a self-satisfied tone, sneered, "Can never be friends."

"I don't think we're that different at all," argued Peeta calmly. "And even if we are a bit different, that doesn't mean we can't be friends." In a voice that was close to a whisper, Peeta reminded him for what felt like the hundredth time, "We're brothers, Rye."

"Not different?" scorned Rye. "Let me spell things out for ya! You like school, I hate school. I'm smart, you're dumb. I'm fun, you're boring. I'm a gamer, you're a painter. Must I go on?"

"I know we can be friends," was Peeta's firm response. "Maybe you don't think that, but—"

"You got that right," interjected Rye tersely, cutting him off. "I don't."

"Just because people are different doesn't mean they can't be friends," contradicted Peeta in yet another attempt to get through to him. "And I know I just said this but we're brothers. And don't you remember when we were little? Why can't things be like that again?"

"Don't care," stated Rye flatly.

Despite Rye's refusal to listen to his brother's words and try and make sense of what he was saying, Peeta wasn't giving up. Time and time again though he'd asked the same questions and like with each of his failed attempts, he only ever received a single answer. Nevertheless, that didn't prevent him from doing and saying all he could to persuade his brother's thinking and convince him a friendship between them was more than possible.

It didn't matter that Rye was now walking with long, purposeful strides because Peeta was right there beside him. If Rye moved quicker, then so would Peeta. He was like a human shadow that followed him wherever he went and thinking of it like this, Rye only grew more furious at the idea of his little brother nagging him in such an incredibly annoying manner. It made no sense to him why he was bothering to follow him at all. Why he didn't just leave and take his own path to school was beyond him but the fact that he wasn't was starting to piss him off.

"Can you at least tell me why you don't want to be friends with me?" Peeta implored. "Can you at least tell me that? You keep treating me like crap and pushing me around but you never tell me why you do it. If you don't want to be friends with me, then why?"

No answer from Rye. He didn't even give Peeta so much as a glance to acknowledge that he'd heard the question. Either he was now in his own world of thoughts and didn't even hear him or he had heard him and he was just choosing not to respond.

"Okay," said Peeta, immediately moving on to another. "Can you answer this for me? What would it take for you and I to become friends?" I just wish you'd tell me because there's gotta be a way you and I can get along without always arguing!

Not a word came out of his brother's mouth. His eyes were focused only on the ground under his feet. On and on he walked and not once did he take a moment to glance at the guy beside him. It was like he'd shoved him right out of his vision and the only person left in the picture was himself. It certainly seemed that way because he wasn't even shifting his gaze to anywhere else. He didn't look up to glance at the trees around him and he didn't ahead to see if they were approaching Madderson High.

"You gotta have an answer to that Rye," Peeta beseeched, his eyes trained attentively on Rye. "I know you're ignoring me and you probably don't care to talk to me, but I wish you would. I wish you'd see I'm just trying to help."

"I don't need your help!" he retorted. Whirling around to face Peeta, he shot him a look of sheer and total annoyance. He took a few steps closer towards him, clenched his teeth and seethed, "When did I ever say I needed your help? Huh? When did you ever hear me say that? When did those words ever come out of my mouth?"

"Well, you never really said it—" Peeta began, but he was cut off all too hastily.

"Yeah, that's what I thought!" Rye shouted, and his eyes were blazing with searing fire. "You always think I need your help like I'm some needy little kid but I'm not! I'm not some loser like you, Peeta! Maybe you think I am but you're wrong, just like you always are. I don't need your help, and I never want your help. You assume I need help but you don't know a thing about me, and that's not gonna change. I don't need your friggen' help! And if I did need some help, I sure as hell wouldn't want it from you! For the last fuckin' time: I...don't...need...your...help!"

"I think you do though," countered Peeta softly, not buying what his brother was telling him. You say you don't but I don't believe it for a second. The way you shout, raise your voice, get so defensive...there's no way what you're saying is true. It can't be. There's more going on somewhere inside you. "You say you don't but—"

"Shut up!" barked Rye, giving Peeta a forceful shove. "Got that? Just shut up, keep to yourself and leave me alone. A-l-o-n-e! Oh, and don't ever think of walking to school with me ever again. I walk alone. Me. Myself. With no one else. And if I ever did walk with someone else, it sure as hell wouldn't be with my lameass brother...so get that in your head!"

With that, he turned and stormed off in a furious huff. He'd hardly walked a few paces before he nearly tripped over his feet but he recovered quickly and continued hurrying off. Then, as if wanting to vanish from Peeta's sight entirely, he broke out running and didn't think twice about it. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him and soon he was completely out of sight. Even if his younger brother would have wanted to pursue him and try and talk more with him, it would have been futile. Rye was too fast and agile of a person to be outrun. He was notably speedy with legs like a Roadrunner and therefore could outrun anyone, had remarkable reflexes and was undoubtedly the fastest person Peeta knew. Trying to catch up with him wouldn't have been worth even attempting because he just didn't have the kind of speed his brother had.

It was when he was nearly at the school that Rye returned to walking at a normal, leisurely pace. He hadn't stopped running because he was tired and needed a breather, for it wasn't often he had to slow down and put on the brakes. What had caused him to stop was hearing the sound of distinctive giggling. It was close enough that he could hear it plain as day and when he turned and glanced to his right, he saw where it was coming from.

Loping around in the grassy field were two brothers who couldn't have been any older than five. Both had long, blond hair that fell in waves over their forehead and where one's eyes were a bright shade of blue, the other's was a dark, chocolate brown. Bright, yellow blemishes covered their t-shirts and shorts and it was no wonder; surrounding them in every direction were multiple dandelions. Their little feet trampled briskly over the blades of grass and sunshine-colored flowers but every so often they'd trip and land head first amongst them. This didn't seem to matter much to them because just as soon as they stumbled, they'd spring right back up again and continue with their vigorous romp. The energy and exuberant spirit they gave off seemed to float about the entire area as if it was part of the very air itself. It was even gradually drifting its way towards the seventeen-year-old guy who was gaping hypnotically at this lively milieu.

The two boys weren't aware that a guy had stopped to watch them in silence. Neither knew that their playing and cheerful shouts had unintentionally drawn the attention of someone who'd been hurriedly passing by. It wouldn't have been clear to them why this guy had decided to stop and observe two children frolicking when he probably had more important things to be doing. Little did they know that hearing them sound so joyful and full of life had triggered a specific part of his brain. The entire scene – the two blond-haired boys scampering this way and that, their incessant laughter, smiling faces, even the patches of dandelions – was giving him the strangest feeling.

Standing there with his arms at his sides and his eyes fixated on the kids, he felt like he'd been there before. He was almost positive this was the case but he didn't have time to get lost in his wondering. A few quick questions were all he was able to brood over before having to give his mind a much-needed shake.

 _What am I doing?_

 _Why am I standing here?_

 _What's the point of it?_

 _What does it mean?_

 _Does it even mean anything?_

 _If so, what does it mean?_

 _What's...wrong...with...me?_

His didn't have time to keep pondering because now emerging from the woods were the parents and seeing them appear from out of the dense area, it snapped him back to reality. He gave only one final pensive stare at the two children before turning and rapidly heading down the path that would take him to school. He had to get going and forget about what he'd seen. He had to shove it out of his mind and focus on anything else other than that.

But even when he'd gotten to the entrance doors of Madderson High, still he couldn't shake loose that image of those two blond-haired boys.

It took him a solid five minutes just to wake up his frozen legs and will them to budge. Trudging into the school, he could have sworn an unbearably heavy weight was pressing on his shoulders. Needless to say, it was nonexistent and only a figment of his flustered mind, but it felt painfully real. Not until he'd stepped into the school was he able to partially block out his encounter in the field.

Swimming in his sea of musings were now the words that would continuously be floating there. In a sequence, they came and went, emerged and dissolved, then re-emerged and washed out of his consciousness.

 _School._

 _Classes._

 _People._

 _Crowds._

 _Me?_

 _Rye?_

 _Myself?_

 _Rye..._

 _Why!?_

 _Why doesn't he let me in?_ pondered Peeta, who felt like he'd hit rock bottom at having lost yet another battle with his exhaustingly stubborn of a brother. Those were the only words he could use to describe his brother right then – exhausting and stubborn. I understand if he won't do it for others but I'm his brother!I just don't get why he treats me like I'm the enemy when I'm only trying to help. I wish he'd open the door and let me in and at least give me a chance. That's all I'm asking.

He could have stood there all day wondering why but he had classes to get to, and he couldn't be late. Allowing himself to get lost in a countless number of questions wasn't going to solve anything, especially when he had somewhere to be going. He knew there'd be plenty of time to ponder about why Rye was the way he was, so he quickened the pace and did his best to focus on anything other than his brother.

Like always, he arrived at Madderson High the same he did every morning. He came to the end of the grassy path, walked downhill past the patch of colourful flowers he always did and was soon in front of the familiar building. Only this time, he knew he'd be going about the morning with much thought as to what that afternoon might have to offer for both himself and Katniss. He'd been anticipating it for the past few hours and it was hard to believe he had only a few classes to go before they'd finally be sitting down by the lake with no one around but themselves.

The day certainly seemed to pass by much quicker than Peeta would have expected. But he figured since he was fortunately able to keep his mind on what was happening in class rather than wonder what the end of the day might hold it made sense that the day would fly by. Keeping his mind on what his teacher was highlighting almost always did the trick. His first class had been biology and when he'd shown Mr. Boggs his two completed diagrams, the guy was noticeably pleased. Peeta was even more pleased when he got the two sheets back at the end of class and saw that he'd gotten a perfect score on both. While science might not have been among his favourite subjects in school, receiving grades that left him proud and relieved helped make for a great day. Knowing that all the page-flipping, note-searching and computer-browsing he'd done to get through the assignment had paid off was a pretty good feeling. The way he saw it, it was definitely rewarding.

 _At least classes are going by fast,_ he thought thankfully. _Now if I can just focus on math, then I should be alright till art class._ _Without even realizing it, his face broke out in a small, hardly noticeably grimace but if Katniss had been there, she would have instantly spotted it._ _Oh, right. That. Math...ugh._

He was just about to head upstairs to math when he heard a cackling voice behind him.

"Well, look who it is."

The second he turned his head, he felt a large knapsack hitting him squarely in the face and all he could think was that it was a good thing it wasn't loaded with books. Getting struck in the face with that kind of weight would have been enough to make his head spin and make him think he was seeing stars.

When he lifted his head, he saw his older brother leering at him with a victorious smile that had 'loser' written all over it.

"Hey, loser," said Rye condescendingly while hitching his bag lazily over his shoulder. "Skipping class, I see."

"I'm not skipping," Peeta asserted. "I'm on my way up to math. Aren't you supposed to be in geography?"

"No!" hissed Rye immediately.

"Yes you are," Peeta argued calmly. "You always have geography this time of day. Your geography's the same as my math. Don't lie to me, Rye because I know this is when you have that class."

"How do you know?" his brother snapped.

"I saw your schedule," was Peeta's answer. "You left it on the kitchen table and I saw it."

"Whatever," scoffed Rye, who was now clearly irritated. "So if you saw it, then why the hell did you ask me what classes I had on the way to school? What the hell was that all about? What were you trying to pull?"

"Just trying to make conversation," said Peeta frankly, his voice virtually inaudible.

"Just trying to make conversation," mocked Rye, twirling a finger in circles and then positioning it next to his ear. This lasted only temporarily, and then he was sniggering hysterically. "Man, you're an idiot. So you ask me things you already know and...you're just stupid. Stupid as the day is long."

He sniffed and with the left corner of his lips slanting upward, jeered, "And another thing, stay out of my stuff. Don't go nosing into shit that isn't even yours and yes, that means schedules too. Freaks like you aren't welcome in my life."

"Shouldn't you be going to that class though?"

"And look at you!" taunted Rye, pretending he hadn't perceived a single word his brother had said. "Mr. Stupid sitting here all perfect and innocent when you're really skipping and—"

"I already told you, Rye," Peeta repeated just as firmly. "I'm not skipping. If you don't believe me, look at my schedule. I've got it right here."

"Sure you are," said Rye, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And let me guess? After math you'll have art, then lunch, then free, right?"

"Yes."

"And wait, don't tell me," Rye went on in a snobbish tone while lifting his hand. "You can't wait to get to art?"

"It's my favourite class."

"Well, hope you have a truly shitty time," sneered Rye with a toothy, self-aggrandizing grin. "Hope you spill the paint all over Katniss and make her never want to see you again. Better yet, hope you spill the paint all over yourself so she sees how much of a loser you are and never wants to be seen around you anymore. Wish I could be there to witness it but alas...gotta touch up on my geography." Before leaving, he made sure to stomp on Peeta's foot as hard as he could and then with a complacent chuckle, he turned and swaggered down the hall without once looking back at him.

All Peeta could do was sigh like he always did when Rye said things like this and think for the millionth time: _I just wish we could be friends._

Luckily for him, he didn't have time to sit there and remain lost in his mountain of thoughts because the bell signalling the start of classes was now ringing. He quickly put his binder and books bag in his bag, rose to his feet and sauntered down the hall towards the one room he knew would certainly do an expert job at keeping him focused – Ms. Coin's room.

Like biology, Peeta was able to keep his mind on algebra rather than let his mind wander to a few hours later. The fact that Ms. Coin was remarkably fast at writing things out on the board meant that it wasn't long before she'd erase her work to make room for additional answers. His hand rarely stopped to give itself a rest but he was one that liked getting as much copied as he could. The more questions he had worked out in his notes, the easier and less stressful it would be come studying time. It helped that the woman was speaking and writing especially fast today and that was more than alright with Peeta. The faster she wrote the faster he'd have to keep up with note-taking and that meant his mind wouldn't be able to drift off and concern itself with other things.

"Now since it's almost the end of the month," Ms. Coin announced while wiping the board clean. There was five minutes till the end of class but there was one final thing she had left to say to her students. "And since we've covered much of the algebra unit, we'll be having a test the first week of October. I haven't set the date just yet but I'm guessing we'll have it on the seventh." A few of the students grumbled and just like he'd done out in the hall, another grimace appeared on Peeta's face. But he then remembered he had the greatest tutor in the school helping him out so there really wasn't much to worry about. With a girl like Katniss giving him pointers and tips, the odds of him failing that first test were pretty slim. "There's still two weeks of work left to cover so you've got plenty of time to start reviewing and going over old notes from the beginning of the course. And if any wish for some extra help, I'm always here during lunch hours so feel free to book an appointment if you wish for some further review. I haven't finished writing the test out yet but I'm guessing it will be about fifty questions.

 _Fifty questions!_ When Peeta heard this, his eyes widened in surprise and then fell down onto his thick, heavy textbook that held about a thousand pages. The numbers were swirling and dancing in every direction and he thought his head might explode if he went on staring at them for much longer. _How am I ever gonna get that many done? Okay, just relax Peeta. You knew there'd be a test coming soon so it shouldn't be that shocking. Well, looks like Katniss and I are gonna have a lot of studying to do. She probably won't have to go over stuff much but if I don't...then I'm gonna wish I had. One thing's for sure...October's gonna be a busy month. Good thing I've got a tutor or I'd be doomed!_

It was when his third class which was right before lunch came rolling around that he knew he could no longer keep from feeling distracted; that was a no-brainer. It was kind of difficult not to when Katniss was sitting right next to him and the two had been assigned to complete a self-portrait of themselves and all he could think about was: _What's she going to think when I tell her everything, and that I love her? Will she get scared off? Will she think I'm some love-sick freak? Will she feel so awkward that she'll just want to call off our friendship completely? Okay, just calm down, Mellark...you'll find out soon enough. Just focus on not making your face look like a bunch of scribbles and lines._

All this raced through his mind in the first few minutes of class. He didn't doubt he'd go on pondering about a number of other questions throughout the hour, so he told himself he wouldn't let that happen. Instead of sitting there in silence which would have given his mind the perfect opportunity to wander off, he decided he'd try and talk with Katniss. At least that way he'd be too busy talking with her to take the time to start daydreaming about what might happen down by the lake. That, and he also noticed she was rather quiet today so he hoped to eliminate any awkwardness that might have grown between them.

"How are you finding this?" asked Peeta curiously who was eyeing his portrait carefully. He noticed one particular line was slightly out of place and he was quick to erase it and redraw it with more precision. "Do you find drawing yourself easier than drawing other people, or did you like what we did the first day better?"

Normally, he'd absorb the lyrics of whatever song was playing in that particular hour but today his mind was facing too much distraction. Somehow the words of The Rain Song by Led Zeppelin just weren't helping him lose himself in its melody. The fact that he'd already become lost in the girl sitting next to him had more than a bit to do with that.

"Probably doing portraits of each other," was her answer. "Drawing someone else I found kind of hard but this is just...not the same."

Peeta gave a chuckle and told her, "Yeah, I gotta agree with you on that. When it comes to drawing somebody else, I'm all for that and could do that for hours. But I can never seem to like drawing myself. I think it's because no matter how hard I try, my nose always ends up looking too big."

A small smile crossed her face as she asked him, "Really?"

He nodded and said, "Really. I've tried getting better at it but I think it's the one thing in art that just doesn't work out for me. There was one drawing I did a year ago and I thought it was actually gonna turn out pretty good and then...my nose went and ruined it."

"It couldn't have been that bad," said Katniss, staring intently at the mirror in front of her. She took a moment to inspect the shape, size and overall features of her eyes and then brought the pencil closer to the sheet of paper. So far, she'd only managed to sketch out the rough outline of her face and where the eyes, nose and mouth would be positioned.

"Oh, it was though!" said Peeta quickly. "You should have seen it. My nose was two times too big, the shape wasn't quite right, the lining of it was a little out of place and...and it just didn't look like the real thing."

"Well, maybe you'll get lucky this time," she offered. "Maybe your nose will actually turn out pretty good."

"I hope so," said Peeta. "Because if there's one thing I'd love to not have happen in this sketch, its to give myself an unnecessarily large honker."

After carefully sharpening his pencil and giving the point a quick blow, he grasped it with his fingers and gave it a lazy twirl. He was about to lower it to the page on his table and continue on with his self portrait when he stopped himself. He hadn't intended to but now more curious than before, he turned his head and glanced at Katniss for the longest time. He was amazed at how far she'd come since that first day of class when she'd felt so unenthusiastically about art. Back then, she hadn't gotten much enjoyment out of sketching or anything else to do with art, but he'd seen a change in her over these past few weeks. No longer was she as negative about whatever it was she was working on. She now dove into her tasks with a more determined attitude and getting the chance to see this growth was one of the many reasons art was Peeta's favourite class.

When she caught him staring at her from out of the corner of her eye, Katniss stopped, turned to look at him and asked with growing confusion, "What?"

Peeta stared at her for only a few seconds more before letting a captivated smile show on his face.

"Nothing, it's just," he began and in a sincere, genuine voice, told her, "I was just thinking about how if it was your face I was sketching, there'd be no possible way of getting your nose wrong."

"Why not?"

He gave the tiniest shrug, another smile and feeling the blush creeping into his cheeks, replied honestly, "Because I'd have such a beautiful face to work with." Once the words were out of his mouth, he knew his cheeks were now tomato red and there was no way at hiding that. He knew for certain that Katniss was noticing this because her eyes had now shifted from his portrait to his cheeks.

An unexpected thing happened next.

As Katniss was refocusing her attention to her portrait and where she ought to start sketching, Peeta was catching sight of something appearing on her face. Her attention might have been solely on determining what aspect of the face she should tackle first, but it wasn't on what Peeta was doing. While he likely should have been plugging away at his own sketch, he was just too interested in what he was now seeing. He recalled having seen this before when the class first began but what with all that had unfolded since then, he was now becoming undeniably curious. He was curious for many reasons and he couldn't help wonder what all of it meant, or if it had any meaning at all.

Whatever the case, he simply couldn't take his eyes off her because now glowing on her cheeks was an unmistakable, evident red. The cherry color that now lit up her cheeks could have been seen by anyone sitting close by but it was like her mind wasn't on that. She was doing her best to remain in full concentration on the portrait in front of her. He had to believe Katniss knew she'd broken out blushing but even if she did, she wasn't acknowledging it. If anything, it was like she wanted to pretend it wasn't even happening and that completing her assignment was all that mattered. For Peeta, he was now more anxious than ever for the day to end because he could hardly imagine what she'd say to him when they made their way down to the lake.

That wasn't for a few more hours though, and he had to ensure he got the self portrait of himself completed. If he could make sure that got finished, then the rest of the day would surely fly by and then soon enough he'd have his list of questions answered.

When he was close to being done with his portrait, he gave it a closer inspection while searching for any areas where he might have forgotten to include certain details. He was mostly satisfied with what he'd done with the eyes, lips, overall shape of the head. He was equally pleased with where he'd sketched lighter and darker portions of shading which helped bring the picture as a whole to life. There was just one part of his creation that left him frowning and shaking his head.

"Forget something?" asked Katniss.

"No, everything's there," said Peeta and then with a light sigh, he told her in disappointment, "But my nose still looks too big."

"Make it smaller then," she suggested.

Peeta considered this but then said, "I could, but then it'd be too small. Right now it's too big but then if I went and re-did it, it'd be too small. Too big, too small, but I just can't get the size I want. Doesn't matter how many times I try and do a picture of myself; it just never turns out right."

"You never had this much trouble sketching me," she remarked, taking a moment to look over his piece. "You did that no problem but now drawing yourself, it's like you're forgetting how to draw."

Peeta gave his sketch and intense stare and said, "Of all the times I've done self portraits of myself, I've never made my nose look so...massive. I can't get over how big it looks!"

Katniss couldn't hold back a chortle as she pointed out, "It's not that big, Peeta! That's exaggerating a bit, isn't it?"

"No," he said. He then pointed at the nose, looked back to Katniss and exclaimed, "Just look at it! Look at that thing!"

"But it's not even that big," she said, wondering how Peeta could think it was so large in size when it seemed to fit his face almost perfectly. "You make it sound like you drew the world's biggest nose."

"Well, maybe it's not that big," he admitted. "But it's still pretty big!"

Hearing this, her eyes widened and all she could say was, "The only one who thinks it's big is you, Peeta. I think it's fine and I bet Mr. Odair's gonna tell you it's awesome."

There was a long pause and then she heard him saying, "Katniss?"

"Hmm?" She'd now went back to tidying up the last few details of her sketch which included putting in darker, more noticeable shading around the lips. Aside from that, there wasn't a whole lot else she had left to add to her portrait of herself.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Peeta put down his pencil, gave his artwork an intense, enquiring stare and asked straight out, "Do you think my nose is...big?"

She opened her mouth and with an amused, flabbergasted giggle, asked him, "Do I what?"

"I'm serious," he said with his eyes still on his portrait. "Do you think I've got a big nose?"

"No!" she said briskly. "Why would you think your nose is big?"

"Well, it looks big in my portrait and since it's a self portrait," he reminded her. "It's meant to reflect what's on my face and since it's big in the picture...doesn't that mean I've got a big honker?"

Katniss was close to entering a state of hilarity but was able to contain herself. In a serious tone, she told him earnestly, "Peeta, your nose isn't big, okay? Yes, it's a self-portrait but there's no way that means you've got a honker too big for your face." She went silent for only a second before adding thoughtfully, "Well, your nose is a little big, but not that big."

Peeta's expression changed instantly. Without hesitating, he brought his face close to the mirror on his table and began examining his nose with noticeable interest. He even started rubbing his nose and viewing it from various angles as if wanting to see just how closely the nose in his work matched the one that was his. Katniss hadn't expected this and her only reaction was to stare at him in wonder for what must have been a few minutes. It wasn't till he began looking back and forth between his artwork and his nose that she leaned over to the two people next to them.

"Hey," she said to the guy with the crazy, wildly colourful afro.

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind telling Peeta his nose looks fine? He thinks what he's drawn reflects the nose on his face and now he thinks he's got a big honker and uh, well...you can kind of see he's staring at himself in the mirror."

"Really?" said the girl next to him, laughing lightly.

Katniss nodded.

"No problem," the guy said in amusement. "Don't worry. I'll get rid of any concerns he's got about his supposedly enormous nose." He then called over to Peeta, "Hey, Mellark! Just wanted to—"

"Not now, I'm busy," interjected Peeta, who was still observing his nose in the small mirror.

"Oh, I can see that," said the guy while guffawing. "Just wanted to let you know that your nose looks fine and you're worrying for nothing."

"So my nose isn't a massive honker?" said Peeta and he too was on the verge of doubling over.

"Nah," said the guy assuredly. "It's fine. Don't worry, you don't got an elephant's nose. And if you did, I'm sure somebody would have mentioned it by now."

"Thanks," said Peeta, grinning broadly. "For a second there I was starting to think I'd have to change my portrait to an elephant."

"No way," was the guy's answer. "Your nose would have to grow fifty more sizes before you'd have to do that."

"What a relief," said Peeta and sat back in his chair with a sigh. "That's good then. Looks like I won't have to re-do my portrait after all."

"See Peeta?" said Katniss. "Your nose looks fine, and there's nothing wrong with your portrait."

"I know," he replied.

Katniss blinked in befuddlement and said, "I thought you said your nose looked too big?"

A huge smile then broke out on Peeta's face and that was followed by an even bigger, more boisterous laugh. He must have laughed for almost a minute before finally calming down enough to go on talking.

"I was just kidding," he jokily confessed.

"So all this time you never really thought your nose was huge?"

"Nah," said Peeta, still wearing a smile on his face.

"Well, you had me convinced," said Katniss. "Especially when you had your face in front of that mirror."

"Guess I looked pretty intense, huh?"

"You were definitely intense about it," Katniss agreed, recalling just how much he'd fretted and scrutinized over the size of his nose.

Peeta chuckled lightly and declared, "Good thing it was all a joke. I don't think it'd be much fun putting your face to a mirror and seeing an elephant's nose. That might be kind of freaky."

"Yeah, it probably would," said Katniss and the image of Peeta suddenly having an elephant's trunk was so extremely hilarious that she almost fell into a round of hilarity. She pushed it out of her mind though and directed her attention to her self portrait which was now officially done. She gave it a few more inspections and concluded that it wasn't a bad picture of herself. She felt it wasn't the best and that improvement could still be made but all in all, she was content with it.

"I think we did pretty good today, wouldn't you say?" said Peeta while examining their works.

"I think so," said Katniss. It wasn't till her eyes fell on the table that she'd forgotten something since her and Peeta had first walked into class.

"Hey, we forgot these," said Peeta while holding up a sugar cube.

"I know," said Katniss who was holding up hers.

"Wow, I must have really been worried about that portrait," said Peeta, popping the sweet, tasty treat into his mouth. "Eating one of these is usually the first thing I do before getting started."

"Your mind wasn't on sugar though, that's for sure."

"No, it was just on the possibility of me having a nose as big as an elephant's."

"And here I was so distracted watching you that I didn't even remember to eat mine," said Katniss after swallowing hers. "I was too busy wondering why you thought your nose was so big."

"Well, there's one thing we can take away from this class," Peeta concluded.

"And what's that?"

"I don't have an elephant's nose," he said with one of his typical, recognizable grins. "I've got a normal, human, not-too-big and not-too-small nose."

"Thank goodness," said Katniss in relief but then added in amusement, "Because your face never would have left that mirror. It would have scarred you for life."

"It wouldn't have been pretty. And since Marvel's been telling me from day one that I'm a worry wart, I think I would have gone nuts."

"Yeah, and you wouldn't be Peeta Mellark anymore...you'd be the blond-haired, blue-eyed elephant of Madderson High."


	20. Chapter 20

**CHAPTER 20**

 **SEPTEMBER**

When Peeta heard Mr. Odair's voice announcing it was the end of class, he was surprised at how fast the hour had gone by. He hadn't expected it to fly by so remarkably fast but it had and that meant the end of the day was creeping up quicker than ever. It wouldn't be long now till he'd be forced to reveal all his feelings to the girl he loved, but he still had a couple of hours till then. He only hoped he could go through the rest of the day without thinking too much about how Katniss would react to all he'd have to say to her.

It wasn't too difficult keeping distracted at lunch since Peeta was so starving and all he could think about was pleasing his hungry stomach. It also helped that Delly had asked if he'd like to have lunch with her so the fact that he'd have a friend to bounce conversations off of was perfect. And of all the people he knew, the one person that could put his mind at ease and relax any tension sitting on his thoughts it was Delly Cartwright. He wouldn't have minded sharing another hour of lunch with Katniss but she'd gone upstairs to Mr. Paylor's room. She wished to get some extra help and advice for a history project they'd just been assigned. And because it was worth a quarter of their grade, she wanted to ensure she received the best grade possible when the time came to submit it.

For lunch, Peeta had a tasty feast of two freshly-made chicken wraps topped off with a creamy ranch sauce, a small Caesar salad with a tart lemony dressing and a blueberry muffin for dessert. It definitely left him feeling full, content and satisfied and he couldn't imagine eating another bite without bursting. He wanted to spend the next hour with Delly, but a little after they'd finished eating, she wasn't feeling too well and so she decided she'd better go home for the remainder of the day. Since she'd been battling a cold over the past few days, it seemed like the bug was resurfacing so she figured it'd be best if she returned home and crawl into bed.

Two of his other friends also couldn't hang out with him on free. Cato was writing a math test he'd been unable to write the previous week and Marvel was busy catching up on overdue biology homework that couldn't be put off any longer or else his parents would be getting a call from Mr. Boggs. That didn't mean though that he couldn't find other ways to keep busy on free. If ever his friends were busy on free and weren't able to spend time with him, there was one thing that never failed to keep him occupied. No matter the time of day or location, all but one thing could bring him out of reality and take him to that creative, imaginative world where he could lose himself in art.

He found a spot in one of the hallways where he slid himself down and took out one of his sketchbooks. He flipped through countless creations till he found an empty page and then began to sketch. If there was one thing he could always count on to help keep both himself and his mind occupied, it was sketching. He put an intense amount of focus and concentration into his work, making sure to include every detail and above all, to take his time with the drawing. It was the very reason he could rely on art to keep him focused and not let himself get distracted with whatever else was floating about in his mind.

When he'd completed his sketch, he held it out in front of him and looked it over. What he'd depicted was a stunningly shaded, carefully sketched picture of Katniss. She was sitting in art class with her arms crossed and staring up at the board with a calm, serene look on her face. Peeta had seen her face enough times in art class to know that she was normally like this, with her expression not one of boredom, annoyance or confusion – but serenity. It hadn't been like that on day one but she'd learned a fair amount since then and without quite realizing it, her perspective towards art had changed considerably. As he observed his sketch, it even looked like she had a bit of contentment on her face. He smiled, liking the idea that he had helped her find some enjoyment in art so far as opposed to hating it and finding it totally useless in her everyday life. So far, it felt like an accomplishment and he only hoped she'd continue to let her outlook on art expand to new and more creative heights.

He was _almost_ wishing he could stay sitting there and do up another sketch or two, but forced himself to his feet. His free was over and the school day was officially done. He'd gone to all of his classes, ate lunch with Delly and then spent an enjoyable hour creating a sketch. There was nothing else that had to be done but make his way down to the lake to meet up with Katniss. It was now time to do the one thing he'd been both excited and anxious for since watching the sun shine through his window that morning. No matter how bad his nerves might get and no matter how nervous he might get at what she would think, it had to be done.

 _Went by a lot faster than I thought it would_ , thought Peeta, reflecting on how remarkably fast the day _had_ gone by. It seemed like a few seconds ago when he'd been heading through the entrance doors and thinking how terribly slow the day would go by. _Now it's time to head down and meet with her. I just_ _really_ _hope I'll have the guts to not chicken out and tell her how much I love her. I know she already knows since Rye blurted the whole secret out, but maybe it'll sound different actually coming from me. Maybe I can help not make the whole situation feel so awkward. Then again, if she doesn't feel the same way about me, then I guess the whole thing's going to feel pretty awkward for her anyway. But I don't want to make her feel awkward. I just want to let her know I care about her._

When Peeta walked out the front doors of the school, he saw most students were already heading home or waiting for the bus. On any other day, he'd be on his way home as well, but not today. He had somewhere to go and someone to meet. So rather than follow behind everyone else, he turned to his left and started off in the direction of the lake Katniss had talked about. He'd never actually been to the lake yet – considering he'd been so busy keeping up with art, math and biology – but he knew how to get there, since it wasn't too difficult. One only had to start walking left from the school and keep heading that way and in about ten minutes, they'd be at the lake.

Peeta followed these same instructions and indeed it only took him about ten minutes till he'd reached the spot. After a short hike through the woods where he passed a couple of streams, fallen logs that were coated in a thick layer of moss and uniquely shaped rocks of various shapes, he'd reached his destination.

At a first glimpse, only one word sprang to mind as to how he'd describe this place – beautiful. Taking it all in, it was like he was positioned in front of a giant painting that had been so delicately crafted that it looked more like reality than anything else. The vast body of water that stretched out before him was simply breathtaking. It was crystal clear and the sun's rays that reflected off its glassy surface made it sparkle and shine as if it was a sea of diamonds. Behind him and all around him were huge, towering pine trees and from them he could smell the definite aroma of pine. It was a smell he'd always been fond of as a kid and one he'd never been too acquainted with since he'd spent so much of his time at home in the bakery. Standing beneath them and gazing up, he knew this would be a great place to visit in the summer, especially because the trees could provide such lovely shade on the hottest days. It'd be a perfect place to come and spend some time sketching and painting and feel totally, completely relaxed. He could already envision himself finding a spot closest to the water and sitting himself in front of an easel where he could then recapture the impressive beauty of this stunning scene.

Besides the water and endless number of trees, there wasn't much else to admire. Glancing off to his right, though, he _did_ catch sight of something bright and vivid in color. When he strolled over to observe what it was, he saw it was a patch of wild flowers and they were of all colors: rosy reds, deep oranges, golden yellows bright as sunshine, royal purples and even pallid whites. As he knelt down to run his fingers along the soft petals of the many irises, all he could think of was that he wanted to gather some into a bouquet and present them to Katniss. He debated about whether or not this might be pushing too hard or making it too obvious where his feelings stood, but ultimately decided that he didn't care. Like his father had told him just last night, the key was to let her know that he was there and wanted to work things out with her and he most _definitely_ did. What he needed to make sure of was that his nerves didn't come re-knocking and alter his way of thinking.

 _I hope she likes them_ , he thought while gathering a few more. In his hands he now held two of each color and with them now bunched together, the colors collided and gave the irises the appearance of a rainbow. _And maybe it's better that I put my feelings out in the open and not hide anything. At least then I don't have to worry so much about chickening out. I can simply tell her everything. I can tell her exactly how I feel, how much I love her, how much I want to be with her and...and I really hope I'll work up the nerve to say all this!_

When he left the patch of flowers and walked back over to take a seat, he took a quick look around wondering where Katniss was. He suddenly wondered if something had come up and she wasn't able to make it. Or worse, had something happened to her? Had she simply decided at the last minute that she just didn't want to talk to him? Did she fear their conversation would be so awkward and uncomfortable that she'd rather just not show up at all? She hadn't seemed to be dealing with any awkwardness during art but then again, had she been hiding it? Had she in fact felt uncomfortable around him and was merely boggling it up till later on when she could remove her mask and tell him the truth?

 _No_ , he thought, and took a seat in the grass while carefully setting the bouquet of flowers beside him. He ran his fingers nervously through the long blades of grass while glancing up at the tall trees and found his mind was once more racing, but he tried his best to keep it calm and under control. _She wouldn't do that. And even if she changed her mind about coming, she would have texted or called me._ _She wouldn't just not show up. She'd have let me know._

Peeta turned his attention out to the calm, serene lake while remembering what his father had said, what his heart was telling him at that very second, and the time he and Katniss had spent together so far. He was convinced and sure of it that Katniss would in no way not turn up without at least first informing him.

 _She'd definitely tell me first_ , thought Peeta and gazed up at the various clouds that were slowly and lazily passing by. For whatever reason, they looked so much larger, thicker and whiter than he'd ever recalled them being. _She wouldn't be the kind of person to_ —

"Hi Peeta."

Peeta quickly turned his head and saw her slowly making her way towards him. She was dressed the same as she had been earlier – in a simple black t-shirt, grey jogging pants, running shoes with long laces and with her hair done up in her classical braid. He felt like he could have sat there staring at her forever, but that wasn't why she'd asked him to meet her there, so he got to his feet and walked over to her. Rising to his feet, he hoped that his legs wouldn't give out on him because of how nervous he was but much to his relief, his legs didn't begin quivering or shaking. He was able to walk right up to her without having to deal with trembling legs.

"Hey," he said with a warm smile. "I just got here a minute ago." He looked around once more and remarked, "This place is really amazing. I wish I would have found it sooner, or known about it. I would have come here every day to work on homework and paintings and whatnot. Seems like a great place to get away and relax."

"It is pretty amazing," she agreed. "I've only been down here once or twice but I want to come here more often."

She admired the view only for a moment or so before dropping her gaze to the ground beneath her feet. She took a seat in the grass and crossed her legs and as she looked to her left, she saw a small, but pretty bouquet of flowers – irises. There were ten of them in all – two reds, two oranges, two yellows, two whites and two purples – and like all the other flowers surrounding them, they were just as vibrant and colourful.

Peeta noticed this immediately and picking them up, he held them out to her and smiled sincerely while taking a seat next to her.

"These are for you," he said, praying she'd not catch sight of the sudden red in his cheeks.

Either she didn't notice, or she was too busy observing the flowers but either way, he was extremely relieved when he saw that she wasn't staring at his now flushed cheeks. He wasn't quite sure why it would be such a big deal if she caught him blushing though. She'd seen it plenty enough times in class and when she passed by him frequently in the halls. She obviously already knew everything Rye had said was true so nothing came as much of a shocker. But still, he couldn't escape the feeling of nervous butterflies that fluttered in his stomach. He could tell they were dying to get out and the longer he went on sitting there, the more crazy they became. He'd been waiting hours for this moment to arrive and now that it was here, he felt a wide mixture of emotions stirring inside him and wondered how he'd even handle them all.

As he watched her holding the flowers and admiring the gorgeous hues of colors, he added, "I thought you'd like all the different colors. They looked pretty over in the grass, and I thought you might like them."

"They're really pretty," she commented, setting them down and returning his gaze with an appreciative smile. "Thank you."

Peeta gave a slight nod and then searched her face for what she might have been thinking or feeling right then. Was she already feeling awkward? Did she want him to open up and begin the talking because she had no idea of where to even start? Did she just want to get the whole discussion over with as quickly as possible so she'd be free to head back home? He hadn't the slightest clue but figured opening up might be a decent place to start.

"So," he said, attempting to keep things light and even gave the lightest of a chuckle. "That was probably a lot to take in, huh? What my brother said and all?" He hoped he wasn't overdoing it but he knew the more he sat there and debated about what to say or do, the more time he'd be wasting time and it would only make things feel that much more awkward for the two of them. The best and easiest solution was to just dive right in, not hesitate and hope he could put both their minds at ease.

She turned and locked eyes with him and answered candidly, "Well, to be honest...yeah, it was. I guess I just didn't expect that. I didn't know what Rye was gonna say but that was the last thing I would have thought he would say. Definitely surprised me."

Peeta nodded in understanding and said, "He's really annoying. For whatever reason I still don't know, he loves embarrassing me. He finds it funny to see me get nervous and humiliated and to this day, he still does it just as much as he did years ago. I've tried finding an answer for why he might act like that, but I still haven't found one. I guess it's just the kind of person he is."

Katniss said nothing to this. She simply kept her eyes on Peeta as if she wasn't a hundred percent sure on what she should say.

"I just felt bad for _you_ ," he said sympathetically. "That's not exactly stuff you hear every day. It must have been weird hearing all that."

"A little," she admitted, and then asked, "But when I asked you if what Rye had said was true, and you told me yes...that was _true_ , wasn't it?"

 _The truth, Mellark_ , he thought, keeping cool. _Remember what you're here to do: tell her the truth and tell her how you_ _feel_. _No matter how nervous you are, don't hold_ _anything_ _back_. _Just let it all out_ _and whatever happens after that happens._

"Yes," said Peeta softly.

"So all of it was true? Everything he said? He wasn't making anything up or saying things that weren't really true?"

Peeta's only response was the smallest of a nod.

"When he said you watched me walking home every day," Katniss went on. "Was that true too?"

Peeta hadn't any idea of how to go about discussing this without feeling incredibly embarrassed. But now that everything was out in the open and she knew how he felt about her, each of the pieces was slowly coming together. All the other things Rye had told her at lunch – how he'd had dreams about her, drawing pictures of her, decorating cakes and putting her name on them, talking about her as often as he had and repeatedly stating that she was the only girl he loved – wouldn't be hard to explain. This, however, would be a whole lot trickier. He only hoped she wouldn't think of him as a creepy stalker with bad intentions but would instead see his behaviour as both harmless and innocent.

"Y-yeah," he said finally, and Katniss could sense the growing anxiety in his voice. The fact that he was stuttering and shifting his gaze in all directions pretty much confirmed he was on edge. "I-I know that sounds kind of weird, but I...I guess I just couldn't help watching you and wishing I could work up the nerve to talk to you. I'm sorry if Rye freaked you out when he said that, and I'm sorry if me telling you now still freaks you out. I...I guess having someone tell you they watched you walk home everyday seems pretty strange." In a much quieter voice, he added, "It probably sounded pretty creepy."

He got no answer from Katniss who hadn't once interrupted him.

He dropped his head just slightly and whispered apologetically, "I'm sorry, Katniss."

"For what?" she asked.

"I know that must sound extremely creepy," he told her, and now found it difficult even to look her in the eye. The only place he could look to was the ground but even then he knew Katniss was watching him, and knowing that only made his nerves increase greatly. "I wish there was a way I could have told you without it sounding so weird—" and here he paused briefly before saying quietly, "But I guess there isn't.'

Much to his surprise though, Katniss responded, "You don't have to feel sorry."

Peeta blinked, and asked in puzzlement, "Don't you think it's weird?"

"Well, I would if it was somebody else," was Katniss's answer. "Like a stranger. If it was someone I didn't know and didn't talk to then yeah, that would be kind of creepy. When a person you don't even know tells you something like that, it freaks you out. But I've gotten to know you over the weeks and even on that first day of art class I got the feeling you were a friendly guy. I could tell right away you were different. And ever since that first day, you've made the class pretty fun actually. I know I'm still not that great of a drawer but if not for you, the class wouldn't have been the same. You just make everything seem so much...funnier. Pretty much every class we've been to you've done or said something that made me laugh, and that doesn't happen in my other classes. From our first day I thought you'd be a friendly guy to spend class with and I still think you're just as friendly...and you're one of the funniest guys I've ever met. So no, I don't see it as creepy."

"Really?" he asked, and was instantly relieved. Of all the things he'd anticipated her saying, telling him she didn't see it as creepy was the last thing he would have expected. Something along the lines of, "Well, yeah it was pretty creepy. Once in a while wouldn't have been weird, but every day is a completely different story." But that wasn't what she'd said to him and as soon as he'd taken in the words, such a wave of relief had washed over him.

She nodded and said, "I mean, when Rye first told me you watched me going home, I guess it took me by surprise. I think it would have for anyone. Like you said, it's not something you hear every day. But I've gotten to know you for the past few weeks and the more I thought about it, the more I realized it wasn't as creepy as it first sounded when Rye said it. He kind of blurted the whole thing out so my first reaction was, 'Is he serious?' but then I thought it over and it wasn't as big of a deal as he made it seem. Getting to know you helped a lot with that."

"You mean it?" asked Peeta, hanging onto her every word. "Because you can be honest. If you're still creeped out, you can tell me, Katniss. If you don't feel as comfortable around me after hearing that, I'd understand if you wanted to—"

"No, really," she said with a reassuring smile. "It's okay, Peeta. I just didn't know what to think of it when Rye told me. I just needed time to think things through, that's all. Of course I still feel comfortable around you."

"You don't think I'm a stalker or...or anything like that?" he asked quietly. He knew if she'd give him an answer of 'yes I do actually', it would crush him to pieces. Like a vase that stood tall and proud, he'd be struck with a hammer that would leave him cracked, emotionally broken and with no chance of ever reassembling those shattered remains.

"No!" she exclaimed, as if she was surprised Peeta would even ask. "Not even close. You're the last person I'd ever see as being a stalker, Peeta. You're too nice for that." Right away, Peeta could see that her face was filled with genuine shock and this took him aback. It was filling him with a great deal of relief, but the expression on her face wasn't one he'd predicted seeing.

He chuckled lightly and felt immense relief washing over him once more. He looked into her eyes and said with much sincerity, "Thanks, Katniss. I was so nervous what you might think of it. I wasn't sure if you'd want to see me again after hearing that. I didn't know if you'd feel comfortable around me again or if that might affect our friendship."

"Don't worry about it," she said, and then asked a final time, "I know I already asked but I just want to ask it again. My mind's in so many places right now. I feel like I can't even think straight."

"That's exactly how I feel," said Peeta. It was now being made clear to him that all the emotions he was currently battling she was likely experiencing as well. In a way, knowing this was helping to ease the tension in his mind even more, as it suggested perhaps what the two were going through wasn't so different after all. Maybe what they were undergoing was similar enough that they'd be encountering emotions that mirrored the other's.

"So everything Rye told me...is true?"

"Every word," Peeta confirmed. "Everything you heard was the truth."

Katniss dropped her gaze as if she was hearing it again for the first time. Peeta sensed that she wasn't _as_ shocked as she'd been when Rye had told her and since the two were far off from everyone else, that certainly helped. It was just the two of them and they could have all the privacy they needed with no fears of their conversation being overheard or interrupted. The majority of students usually came down during their free if the weather was warm but when the school day was over, it was harm for a lot of them. It was the perfect time for him and Katniss to have agreed to spend some time down here to reflect on what had unfolded the previous day.

"He said that you've loved me since you were five," mentioned Katniss and her voice was close to trailing off. "Have you really loved me for that long?"Bit by bit, she was remembering all that Rye had told her and she and Peeta were now in the process of receiving answers to their list of questions. The time for wondering, debating, considering and pondering was over.

"I have," he told her honestly.

"You've loved me for _eleven_ years?" she asked, her voice now close to a whisper. She let herself pause for a moment but not wanting to get lost in her thoughts, went on, "Peeta, that's...that's a long time."

Peeta nodded and said, "Ever since that first day of school when I heard you sing in music assembly, I've been a goner." _There was no other girl that could have pulled at my heart like you did, Katniss. You just kept tugging at my heartstrings and you wouldn't stop. I knew the second I saw you that I was curious about you but it wasn't till I heard your voice and listened to you sing that I knew you were the only one I'd ever be a goner to._

"You heard me singing?"

"Yeah, everyone seemed to really like it, too," he said and the image of that wonderful day was reappearing in his mind. "Especially the teacher. I wanted to sit there and hear you sing some more. I could have sat there forever and listened to you sing, but then the mockingjays showed up. I swear every bird outside that window started singing. There must have been five of them and all of them had their eyes on you and there wasn't one that wasn't singing right along with you."

"Yeah, right," she said with a laugh, giving Peeta the impression that she didn't agree.

"No, it happened," said Peeta. "All those birds heard you singing and once they stopped, I didn't know what to do with myself. I knew I wanted to talk to you and hopefully get to know you but I...I was always too shy. I just didn't know how to approach you or go about saying hi to you but I never gave up trying. Then for the next eleven years, I tried to work up the nerve to talk to you."

"Without success," said Katniss, not taking her eyes off Peeta. It was like she was drawn to his story, and now that the two were finally alone and away from nosy eyes, they could talk about everything.

Peeta gave a small smile and said, "Without success. So, in a way, the two of us ending up in the same art class together was a real piece of luck. If not for that, then I don't know if I would have ever worked up the nerve to talk to you. I probably would have just done the same thing I did all those years ago, which was to keep hoping I'd eventually talk to you but nothing would ever happen."

Katniss picked up the bouquet of flowers and gave them a long, pensive look, not saying a word while she did so. She simply sat there running her fingers over the smooth petals of the irises as if she were at last starting to have a clearer understanding of where her head was. She'd spent the previous night staring up at the ceiling while letting her mind wander to all the feelings in her heart and at last she felt she was finally starting to know what her heart was telling her, and what it had been trying to tell her all along. She figured somewhere inside her past all the vagueness, she'd known what she'd felt from the beginning; it just hadn't been so obvious till now.

All Peeta could think while watching her was: _I just wish I could read her mind. Or if she'd just give me even a_ _clue_ _as to what she was thinking, then maybe I'd have an idea of where to take this conversation. Do I keep going? Do we drop the whole subject and talk normally? Please help me out, Katniss! I'm sort of lost here._

After a few minutes, she set down her flowers and said haltingly, "You have a...remarkable memory." _I can't believe he remembered everything. Most would forget stuff like that but he hasn't forgotten a thing. He remembers it all._

"I remember everythingabout you," said Peeta softly, not breaking eye contact with her. It felt like some invisible, unseen force was compelling them to stare nowhere but into the other's eyes and it was growing stronger every minute. "You're the one who wasn't paying attention."

"I am now," she told him.

"Well, I guess there isn't much more to add then," said Peeta. "You already know everything, so you know how I feel about you. But can I just say something, Katniss?"

She gave a silent nod, and then Peeta continued.

"I loveyou, Katniss," he said gently, his voice filled with evident passion. "I don't think I'd ever be able to truly tell you how much I do, but that's just it. Yes, I do love you, but I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable either. I don't want you to think that just because I do, that you have to feel that way about me because I'd hate to think that you felt forced or pressured into feeling the same way just because I feel that way about you. I just...I just wanted to let you know that I care so much about you and that I'll always be here for you. But if any of this makes you feel awkward or you just don't feel that way about me, I'm okay with that. I really am. I'd never want you to be with me because you didn't want to hurt my feelings by telling me you didn't feel the same. I'd want you to be with me because you'd want to be with me."

Katniss watched him carefully, but said nothing and kept on listening.

"But I'm completely okay with just being friends," Peeta went on. "These past few weeks in art class, I've been so happy just sitting with you, talking to you and getting to work on art projects together. It's more fun than I've ever had, and I couldn't be happier. Being able to help you in my favourite class gives me something to look forward to every day I wake up. Ever since day one, I've always been excited to spend art class with you and it's more fun than I could have ever expected. So please don't that think I'm trying to pressure or force you into becoming more than just friends. I'd be perfectly happy with us just being friends. I just love spending time with you but if friendship is what you're comfortable with and all you want, then I'm more than okay with that."

Katniss was quiet for a moment, but then she found the words she was searching for. Suddenly, she was looking a bit shy and Peeta could sense just by the tone in her voice that she was indeed sounding somewhat coy.

"I know that, Peeta," she told him, keeping her eyes on the flowers. The brilliant display of colors made her recall all the paints they'd used in class and how it was because of Peeta her works of art had sprung to life. "I've had to think a lot about things too in the last few hours. Ever since Rye first told me all that, my head was in a million places. Half the time, I didn't know whether I was coming or going or what I was even thinking about. It all just felt so confusing and messy and trying to figure out how I felt about it was hard. Not even the hardest math question is as hard as trying to sort out how you feel. It was like it was too much to take in all at once. But I _did_ think long and hard about it. It took me a while to sort out where my head was with everything but I think I'm done feeling confused."

 _So, all this time,_ thought Peeta, who was now finally realizing that what he'd been wondering about hadn'tbeen what he'd thought it had been. _When I sent her that text and I kept thinking she was avoiding me, she really_ _wasn't_ _. Here I thought she wanted nothing to do with Peeta Mellark and all this time she was thinking about things. So, if she did think long and hard about it, does that mean then that she's...she's going to_ _tell_ _me?_

"Did you find what you were looking for?" he asked softly.

She nodded and said, "I guess it took long enough to realize it, but I _definitely_ found it. I was a bit nervous at first, but I couldn't ignore it, or deny it. It was right there staring me in the face. This kind of stuff's all new to me so I didn't want to have to think about it, but it's pretty hard not to when it keeps coming back to you. It's like it won't leave you, and you can't run away from it because it'll just follow you. Wherever you go, it'll be there. That's what it felt like to me."

Peeta listened patiently. Not once did he interrupt or demand that she just spit it out. He'd be willing to sit there as long as she needed till she was comfortable enough to say what she wanted and needed to say. He had all the time in the world and more for this girl.

"I think it was the first day in art class that did it," she told him and a noticeable smile was crossing her face. For those few seconds, she was reliving that memory as if it were yesterday. "I just remember what I thought of you when we first met. You seemed funny, nice and a really decent kind of guy. And then all the art classes after that, it just felt like the pieces were coming together. When Rye told me all of that, I'll admit, it _was_ a lot to take in. It was a bit overwhelming, but I think that was only because of how much he was telling me all at once. I didn't have any time to think about what he was telling me so that got my head spinning. But after I got home, spent some time alone and took the time to think it threw, it hit me that the feelings I was then having weren't _bad_...they were good. All of them."

Peeta kept his eyes on her, taking in every word she was saying. Every single word he absorbed and nothing at all was going to stop him from hearing everything she had to reveal to him.

"Even my _sister_ could see it," said Katniss. She then laughed as Buttercup's image popped to mind and added, "Heck, even my _cat_ could see it! My cat! And he hates me, trust me on that. He gives me the evil eye at least once a day but when I mentioned you, it was like he knew who you were. He was purring and pretty much acting like some genius cat that had all the answers. Don't ask me for all the details because I still can't make sense of why he acted like that or if I was just seeing things but it was definitely weird. But he and Prim both told me the same thing, and it was seeing everyone else's reactions that I just had to stop thinking so much and just accept what my heart was telling me. I tried arguing against it but I just couldn't keep doing that. There was no point ignoring it when all the signs were right in front of me. They all kept pointing to the same thing."

 _This is it_ , thought Peeta, feeling both terribly frightened and terribly excited for all sorts of reasons. _Either she's going to_ _crush_ **** _me or make me the_ _happiest_ **** _guy in the world. I knew the moment was coming the second I got out of bed but I...I can't believe it's here._

 _"So did you...find what your heart was telling you?" he said in a voice that was barely audible._

Katniss looked Peeta right in the eye and without hesitating, told him, "My heart was telling me that I...I _do_ love you, Peeta."

All the doubts, worrying and constant fears of losing Katniss's friendship and company were completely washed away in a second. One single, simple second was all it took. It was like all the anxiety and fretfulness was being erased because of those five wonderful, incredible words. They were the five words Peeta had waited eleven long years to hear and now he'd finally heard them. He'd constantly had fears that he'd never get to hear them, but those fears were now a thing of the past. He felt like he'd been transported from that lake and onto cloud nine where he was now experiencing nothing but sheer happiness. In the sixteen years he'd been living it was a happiness that he'd never been familiar with, not until Katniss had revealed to him that she was in love with him. It was a joy he wanted to bask in, relish and savour because right then, there was no greater feeling imaginable.

"You...you love _me_?" asked Peeta gently. It was almost impossible to keep his jaw from hitting the ground but somehow he managed to keep it in place. _S-she loves me? I-I wasn't even sure if she thought of me as much of a friend but...she loves me?_ _I always wanted to hear those words but I never thought I actually would!_ It was like the words were too good to be true. He couldn't contain the smile forming on his lips and the unmistakable giddiness in his voice as he asked, _"Really?_ "

She nodded silently and that was when she saw another smile crossing Peeta's lips. He gave a light chuckle and told her, "I...I know this might sound kind of silly but I feel like I'm dreaming and what you just told me is part of it. You just told me you love me. Real or notreal?"

She chuckled and assured him, "Real."

Katniss positioned herself so she was lying comfortably on her side and said to him with what he was convinced was absolute certainty, "I do love you Peeta, I'm just...I'm just sorry it took me so long to realize it. I spent a while trying to hide from it because I wasn't sure what might happen but I didn't have to hide from anything. And I'm glad I'm not anymore because I knew I wanted to tell you." _I know I spent all that time wondering if what I felt for you was really true but_ _I couldn't ignore it. It just kept coming back and that was when I knew I did feel something for you. It wasn't just my head trying to play tricks on me...it was real. And I'm glad I'm not trying to ignore it anymore._

Peeta rolled over on his side as well so he was facing Katniss. He inhaled and was met with the lovely, fresh aroma of grass and combined with that was the distinct smell of pine that reminded him so much of the country. Next to them was the collection of irises he'd carefully picked and admiring them up close, they were more colourful than ever. The reds, yellows and purples were so stunningly vivid that he could have went on staring at them for hours and not even noticed.

Without a word, he took one of the flowers from the bouquet – one of the bright, violet-colored ones – and reached over and tucked it gently but securely in her hair. He then gave her such a sweet smile that combined the right amount of shyness and affection that Katniss swore the warmth spreading through her body was all but intoxicating. Something about her being there on that patch of grass and letting her gaze get lost in his made her feel as relaxed as if she was lying on her bed at home. The grass itself was soft enough to feel rather like a pillow and the fall breeze that lingered in the air gave the whole place a sense of such serenity. Above them was a vibrant, magnificent sight in itself because high up in the treetops, the leaves were of reds, oranges and yellows. It was only now – during the autumn season – when the leaves would exhibit such rich and remarkable colours. So much around them was like a painting taken directly out of a museum and there was no other place she could think of that she'd rather be.

It was taking in the picturesque scenery around them and staring into Peeta's eyes that Katniss knew one hundred percent that she was indeed in love with this boy. Whatever doubts she'd had at one point were no more and the feelings growing inside her were solid proof of that.

"Don't apologize," said Peeta kindly. "If anyone should be sorry, it's _me_. I shouldn't have waited eleven years to finally work up the nerve to talk to you. I should have just gone up to you back when we were five. Who would've thought I'd finally get that chance in a class doing something I love? I think that worked out really well."

"Yeah," she agreed with a laugh. "Sure seems like it." She then paused for a moment and Peeta couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking. She didn't wait long to tell him.

"Peeta, can I ask you something?"

He nodded and said promptly, "Anything."

"Well, it's about _us_ ," she started. She looked a tad bit nervous, but that didn't stop her from continuing. "When I spent the last while thinking about us and how I felt about you, at first, I was pretty confused about what I wanted, but now I do know. I _do_ want a relationship with you, Peeta. I know that for sure, it's just..."

"What?" he asked, his tone just as gentle as ever.

"Is it alright if we take things slow?" she asked innocently, with embarrassment in her voice. "It seems like most people around here like to jump right into relationships and take things fast with making out and...and I'm sure you know what comes after that. It's talked about enough that it's pretty much everywhere so I guess there's no avoiding it. But that kind of scares me since I've never been with anyone before. I was hoping we could take things slow and not rush right into things, you know?"

Peeta couldn't hold back an adoring smile at Katniss's innocence. It was one of the many things he loved about her besides her strength, independence and determined personality. He didn't hesitate to reach out and put his hand once more over hers. Right then, Katniss knew exactly how she felt sitting there lying in the grass with Peeta Mellark – and that was that she felt safe. She felt if anyone could be there with her to battle the dangers of the world and stand dutifully by her side through thick and then, it would be him. If ever she needed a sense of comfort, friendship and certainty, it would be Peeta she could turn to.

"That's _more_ than okay," he told her genuinely. "I'd never want to rush into things either. I'd rather us go at a pace we're both comfortable with. I know lots of other people might want to rush into this and that but there's no reason to rush into anything, especially if it's things we're not comfortable with."

Katniss smiled appreciatively and explained, "It's just...I've never really felt like this about anyone. I mean, I've never been in love or in a relationship before, so it's all pretty new to me. I never even thought I'd want a boyfriend since I've never been one to fall in love or anything but then when I met you it all felt so different. It was like I thought I could just ignore what I felt about you and just see you as a partner and a guy in my class but I was wrong, because I didn't just see you as a guy in my class. I did at first but then I started looking forward to going to art and then it hit me you weren't just a friend anymore."

She then paused briefly and went on, "But it seems like everyone else pretty much has the whole love thing down pat except me. That's why I asked if you'd mind if we took things slow. I wasn't sure if you'd be okay with it, or if you'd want to jump right into kissing and...and what everyone else seems to be doing on day one."

"I don't mind at all," Peeta told her assuredly. "And I know you already know this but...I'm not too familiar with it either. I'm like you. I've never been in a relationship. I've only ever been in love with somebody once—" and here he gave her a warm smile and said, "But you already know who that is. The only thing I'm sort of an expert in is knowing what it's like to crush on someone for years. I'm not exactly a stranger when it comes to having your heart strings pulled at for what feels like forever. Anything else though I'm not much of an expert in."

"Wait," said Katniss suddenly. "I know you said you've loved me since you were five and I believe that but since we were five you neve _r_ noticed any other girls? Not even one?"

"No, I noticed just about every girl," said Peeta honestly. "But none of them made a lasting impression but you. You were the only one I ever thought about and wanted to talk to and be friends with and maybe even more than that. I'd look at other girls and listen to them, but they weren't like you. You stood out and you were the only one I kept coming back to. After I while, I stopped thinking of other girls because I knew I'd never feel the way about them the way I felt about you. I knew you'd be the only one that pulled at my heartstrings...and you still do. It's always been you."

Katniss gave a small smile and said while raising a brow, "I left a lasting impression, did I?"

"Yes, and that's why I didn't stop thinking about you all those years," Peeta told her. "You were so unique and different from all the other girls in our classes. It was like I knew you were the kind of girl I wanted to be with. I knew there was a reason I just couldn't stop thinking about you and then one day it all made sense."

He then gave her a somewhat shy smile and said, "Katniss?"

"Yeah?"

"Remember all those years ago," he began, letting his mind drift back to a few years ago to when he and Katniss had been little. It felt so far off yet at the same time it seemed like it was only yesterday. "All those times at school in February?"

Katniss raised her brow again but this time in confusion and asked, "What about February?" She didn't know yet where the conversation was heading but it would become all too clear in just a few seconds when Peeta would reveal yet another one of his secrets to her. Rye had spilled many of his secrets to Katniss but there was one thing he hadn't been aware of, and Peeta couldn't think of a better time to make it known.

"Remember that one day of the month," he said, and here his cheeks were turning cherry red. "February 14th? Valentine's Day?"

She nodded silently, and kept her eyes on Peeta. It was upon hearing him say, 'Valentine's Day' that she was starting to clue in to what he was about to say. It hadn't hit her when he'd first mentioned February but it was hearing 'Valentine's Day' that any bit of confusion about what he was referring to was wiped out entirely.

"Well," he said, and didn't mind so much now that Katniss could see the glowing red in his cheeks. "Ever since I was five years old, I went and did the same thing every Valentine's Day. Every 14th of February of every year I made sure to give a special valentine to one special girl. Like all the other students, I made valentines for the entire class but there was only one girl who I always wanted to give an extra special Valentine's Day card to."

Katniss didn't have to guess at who this girl was because the twinkle in Peeta's eyes said it all. Even if he hadn't told her how he felt about her, his gleaming eyes would have surely done so. It would have been pretty difficult to not notice how brighter a shade of blue his eyes had become. It was like they now sparkled by some dazzling light that only made his eyes seem that much bluer.

"It was you, Katniss," he said adoringly and still the twinkle in his eyes hadn't left. "You were always the one I made something special for. I had to be careful though because the whole point of sending a secret valentine is for the person to not know who it's from. I was so nervous that you might catch me slipping the card into your box, but that never happened, so I guess that worked out okay. What I really would have loved would have been to have been able to give you the card in person but I was so shy and scared of what you might think. So I just kept putting my card into your box in secret."

"You were really that shy?" she asked softly. She'd gained a better understanding of just how much shyness towards her Peeta had struggled with in his life, but she was now taking in just how shy of a child he'd been growing up.

With a nod of his head, Peeta answered, "Terrified, actually. People don't realize how hard it is to talk to a person you've loved for years if they don't love someone themself. It's one of those things you have to experience yourself to really know how tricky it can be. But yes, I was scared to come and talk to you. When I think back on it, I wish I hadn't been so nervous but nothing I can do about that now." With a little chuckle, he added, "When I was little, I used to sit in the grass and pluck petals off flowers saying 'she loves me, she loves me not.' I kept telling myself that if I ever got 'she loves me', I'd come talk to you and maybe even tell you how I felt but just like with the valentines...I was too shy. And it was funny because each time I did it, I'd always end up saying, 'she loves me', but yet I still couldn't muster up the courage to tell you."

"What made you think to do that?" said Katniss curiously, who was refocusing her attention on what Peeta had just told her about his valentines. "I mean, what made you think to give me special valentines when you could have just given me what you gave everyone else? Why did you want to do something different?"

Peeta gave her question some thought. Letting himself drift back to all those years ago when he'd been a five-year-old boy with an undying crush, he found his answer. Growing up, he hadn't really been sure as to why he gave her secret valentines. Yes, he did it because he had an incredible crush on her but it went beyond that and it wasn't till now that he better understood why he had continued doing so.

"I think it was because I hoped by giving you secret valentines," he started. "You might catch on to who was giving them to you. Since I was too shy to come give them to you in person, I guess I had this hope that maybe you'd figure out who they were from, and you'd be the one to come talk to me. It's funny because I was so nervous you'd find out I was the one sending them but then at the same time I really wanted you to find out they were from me. I thought that since we caught each other's eyes a lot in the halls, you might think it was me. Now that I think back on it, I'm not sure if I was more excited or nervous at the thought of you approaching me."

"So all those years in elementary," said Katniss who was carefully taking in every word he was saying. "From kindergarten up till grade six, it was you sending me secret valentines? It was you sending me those cards with the candy hearts that read 'I LOVE YOU', the cards that were signed 'from your secret admirer'?"

"It was," said Peeta.

"Every year you gave me one," she said, speaking more to herself this time than to Peeta.

"Every year," he confirmed.

After remaining silent for a moment, she then said, "So all those years when I had no idea who was sending them, it was you all along. You were my secret admirer?"

Peeta gave another shy smile and said, "I was. You never knew that I was, but since we were five, I was always your secret admirer and admired you every day, but from a distance."

"I really liked them by the way," said Katniss, remembering back to all the beautifully designed cards he'd made for her. "They were all so different and unique and...and just really amazing. I kind of wish I would have known who they were from because I would have thanked them but I guess I know who that was now." She gave a light chuckle, looked to Peeta and said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said, and chuckled as well. "I had fun putting them together. It got a little repetitive buying cards that were all the same, writing people's names on them, signing them and then putting them in people's boxes during class. Putting together a special, one of a kind card for you was one of the most enjoyable things I did all year. I could spend hours on it, making sure every color was just right and that every little sparkle or flower was in place. Definitely kept me busy, that's for sure."

"I still have all of them, too," Katniss informed him. "I have them at home tucked away in my closet. They were so pretty that I couldn't just throw them out, so I kept all of them."

"Really?" said Peeta, pleasantly surprised at hearing that Katniss still had all the cards he'd given her over the years. _I can't believe she kept them! All those cards I made for her, she's still got them!_

"Mhm," she said. "I take them out sometimes and look at them. I still remember what they all look like too. The one you gave me in kindergarten had roses drawn all over the cover and inside the whole card was covered with real rose petals. The one in first grade had trees that had hearts on them instead of leaves. In second grade, you gave me a card that had a giant rainbow with rainbow-colored hearts on it. Third grade, the card had a bunch of buttons that made a heart. Fourth grade, the card was covered with pink and red gems that spelled out 'I love you'. The card from fifth grade had a bunch of tiny red ribbons shaped like a heart and the one from sixth grade—" and here she chuckled to herself before saying, "Came with a little bag of jelly beans, which were really tasty by the way. The green ones were so good I couldn't stop eating them."

"Glad you liked them," said Peeta. His face then lit up with a cheery smile as he said, "I can't believe you kept all my cards."

"I couldn't throw them out," said Katniss simply. "The fact that someone was taking the time to put together such nice cards, how could I? Maybe some people wouldn't think to keep them for so long, especially if they had no idea who was sending them. I guess the person would never know if you kept them anyway but I just couldn't throw them away. Even if whoever sent me the cards never knew I got rid of them, I'd feel horrible doing it. Just thinking how much time they would have put into making the cards, it...it just wouldn't be right."

"I'm glad you liked them," said Peeta. He paused briefly, and then said, "Katniss?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you I ask you something?"

"Sure."

With a hint of apparent shyness in his voice, he asked, "I know it's kind of early and all to be asking this since it's not even February yet but...would you like to be my valentine this year?"

He was unexpectedly surprised when she took Peeta's hand into her own, tightened her hold on it just slightly and answered, "I'd love to."

"I hope I can come up with something creative for your card this year," said Peeta, already thinking ahead to all the possibilities. Whatever he decided to do, he'd make sure to use all the artistic skills he'd developed over the years to come up with the most splendid and memorable creation yet.

"Oh, I'm sure you will," she said, reflecting back on the wonderful cards he'd given to her since they were both five years old. "You're pretty much an artist already so anything you do will be the best card anyone's ever come up with."

He smiled at her compliment and said, "Good thing I've got lots of months to start planning."

"I'm sure you won't need that long."

He gave a little shrug and said, "Maybe not. But I like knowing there's still lots of time to get working on it."

A stillness then settled over the two of them and in that short second, they hadn't even become aware of what has occurring above them. High over their heads in the treetops the autumn leaves of the trees were rustling in the wind and it wasn't long before they were fluttering through the air. A special kind of dance that only took place in the months of fall was now unfolding and it was one of the many great spectacles that nature presented. Leaves had been falling the moment they'd arrived but it wasn't till then that so many were now getting swept off and carried along with the breeze.

When Peeta and Katniss finally did lift their heads and gaze up towards the sky, their eyes were met with a wondrous sight. Colors of orange, red and yellow merged together in a way that looked downright magical and because they were sitting directly under it, it truly did appear to be an act of wonder. The simple, yet captivating way these leaves were carried through the wind and brought closer to the ground was a thing they couldn't stop watching. Their eyes took in the gorgeous colors and then before they knew it, they felt a number of leaves landing on their arms, faces and even on their heads.

"I love autumn," said Peeta.

"More than art?" she said and a smile crossed her face because she knew what the answer would be.

"I love nothing more than art," was Peeta's response. "Wait, no that's not right. There's one thing I love more than art and that's you, Katniss."

Still the leaves were dancing around them and feeling one landing lightly on his head, he reached up and brought it closer to his face so he could observe it more closely. It was a stunningly rich red that reflected the colors of strawberries or holly berries at Christmas. He raised his hand and let the single leaf flutter once more to the ground with grace where it settled next to Katniss's head. He was about to pick up that same leaf and do the same thing again when yet another leaf landed squarely on his nose. A slight ticklish feeling crept into his nostrils and at once he was scrunching his nose. Then, before he could react, he let out a loud sneeze which sent the orange leaf spiralling through the air.

"Bless you," chuckled Katniss and noticed the leaf resettling onto the ground somewhere next to her legs.

"Thank you," said Peeta with a sniff. "Well, I learned something new about autumn today."

"What's that?"

"It makes you sneeze," he said jokily. "Gotta watch out for those leaves. They tickle your nose."

"Too bad you don't have that elephant nose you thought you had," she mentioned. "It would have come in real handy."

"An elephant nose?" he said, puzzled. "Why?"

"You know how big an elephant's nose is," she noted. "You could have easily blown that leaf away."

"Ahhh, I see," said Peeta with a widening grin. "In class I wanted nothing to do with that big of a honker but I can't argue with that. It would have been useful."

"I guess we _do_ have art class to thank then," said Katniss thoughtfully. "For putting us together, I mean."

"Guess we do," Peeta agreed, realizing she absolutely right. It was on that simple, yet exciting day when Peeta wondered if the moment he'd been waiting so long for was becoming closer to becoming reality. It was on that day when it had all began. "Remember that first day when you said you didn't like art?"

She nodded. "I said I hated it."

"Well, if it weren't for that class," he went on with a smile. "Then who knows where we'd both be right now? I'd be in art, you'd be in a different class and we might not even be here right now? Who knows if we'd ever end up down here talking about all of this."

"Okay," she admitted, amused by his statement. "Maybe art class isn't _so_ bad after all."

There was a short pause before Katniss spoke up and said, "I'm kind of excited though. Never having been in a relationship, it's all a new experience for me. I've always wondered what it'd be like to find someone to love, and to be loved back. I guess curious is the best word. I was curious for a while and sitting here now, I'm still just as curious. It seemed like the kind of thing I might like to have one day with that _special_ person. It all just sounded so...nice. I mean, yes, up till now I've always been independent and never gave much thought into guys in general, but you're not like other guys. If I didn't end up in art with you, maybe I'd never find a guy like you. Who knows? Maybe I'd just go on living my life like I've been doing for years. And maybe I would have been okay with that but to be honest, I'm really glad I got to know you. If I had to choose between living my life alone or finding someone special who loves me, I'd—" and she paused briefly before declaring with certainty, "I'd definitely rather find someone special to spend the rest of my life with and after meeting you...I know that's for sure."

Without even realizing it, Peeta had inched himself a bit closer to Katniss so the two were almost face to face. Her grey eyes stayed locked on his bright blue ones as he kept his hands interlocked with hers and gazed at her with the loving smile that caused that warm tingling feeling to spread all over her body. It was a sensation that only he could give her and it was something she wished could stay with her forever. It felt like the kind of thing one might experience only in the most wonderful dream but no matter how dreamlike it felt, it was real. It was unfamiliar to her and not until that day had she experienced such a flooding of warmth filling her body and while she wasn't entirely familiar with it, she hoped she soon would be.

"Girlfriend?" he whispered softly.

Katniss felt the recognizable blush in her cheeks as she smiled and whispered, " _Girlfriend_ _."_ She then held his smile as she whispered back, "Boyfriend?"

Peeta gave an even bigger smile in return and feeling like he truly was on cloud nine, said quietly, " _Boyfriend_."

It was now official. The two were no longer just friends and partners in art class. No longer were they simply tutoring each other and lending a helping hand in their areas of struggle. They were now a couple, joined together by a friendship that was now in full bloom...and in _love_ _._ After having met at this lake not ten minutes from their school, discussing so much that had been on their minds and having the autumn leaves falling all around them with such elegance...the truth was so easy to see. In their eyes the truth had appeared so visibly and it hadn't taken them long to acknowledge what they were reading in the other's eyes.

The two remained silent for only a short minute before Peeta plucked up the courage to ask something that he'd wanted to do for so very long. He wondered if it was something he should be asking her, since they'd both just agreed to not rush into things and take things slow. But as he gazed into her eyes, all he could think of was that he wanted to show as well as tell her just how much he cared about her and there was all but one simple way that he could do that.

"Katniss?" he asked her, his voice still in a whisper. "Would you mind if I...if I—" but something had worked itself up into his throat and he found the words were impossible to get out. He wanted so badly to ask but an invisible hand was covering his mouth and was preventing him from asking.

"If you what?" said Katniss.

"I'm sorry," Peeta apologized, meeting her gaze with the shyest of a smile. "I...I really want to ask you but I'm just so shy. I've never asked this kind of question before and I never imagined I'd end up sitting here with you, wanting to ask you."

"It's okay," she told him, watching him with both curiosity and puzzlement. "You can ask."

Peeta gave a silent nod, breathed softly and asked, "Would you mind if I...if I kissed you?"

Katniss dropped his gaze and turned her head to search the area, wondering if they might not really be alone and that there might in fact be other people around. Were there snooping eyes watching over them? Were people hiding behind trees waiting for the ideal moment to jump out and ruin an experience that was meant to be magical? Would they end up kissing only to be interrupted, causing whatever spark that had possibly ignited between them to wink out of sight? Katniss had always wanted her first kiss to be memorable and special and for it to be truly special, the two should be completely alone. Having others barge in and invade on such a private, personal moment wasn't something she wanted to happen. What she wanted was to share the moment with one special person, and feel like the two were the only ones in the entire world, and they were indeed living in their own secret world...even if it was for a short, single minute.

Peeta sensed her hesitation at once and reacting quickly, he reached his hand out to gently touch her cheek as he reassured her, "It's okay Katniss. There's nobody else here. It's just _us_...just you and me. I promise."

"I-I know," she told him, and at once he sensed she was still feeling uneasy. "It's just..." He could tell she was nervous about something other than the possibility of them not being alone, but he wasn't sure what that could be.

Peeta gave her hand a light squeeze and told her gently, "It's alright, Katniss. We don't have to kiss if it makes you feel uncomfortable. I'd never want you to feel nervous and I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. I-I probably shouldn't have asked that so soon and waited till—"

"No, it's not that," she said. When she next spoke, Peeta picked up on the embarrassment in her voice and all he wanted was to make it vanish and put her at ease. "It's just...I've never kissed anyone before. I just don't want you to think I'm a... a bad kisser. Having never kissed anyone my whole life, I doubt I'm very good."

"I'd never think that," he said benignly, still keeping his hand over hers. He gave it a firm but gentle squeeze of reassurance and then she felt a rush of warmth spreading from her fingers right up to her arm. Once again that incredible feeling swept over her and she prayed it wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. "Trust me when I say this Katniss: there's no chance I'd ever think that. Believe me, you don't have to worry about me thinking that."

"But I don't even know how," she went on but stopped herself in mid-sentence. She bit her lip in hesitation and continued, "I don't even know how you're supposed to kiss, how long it should be and...and I just don't know a thing about kissing. When it comes to math, it all clicks for me but love and romance and kissing is like a whole other language that I've never learned. It looks so easy when everyone else does it but I still don't think I'd know how to do it myself."

Peeta didn't respond right away but instead, went on stroking her hands with his own. While anyone else might have thought this to be odd and rather strange, it felt nothing but right for both himself and Katniss. For whatever reason he'd started caressing her smooth hands and without having to say a word, both knew this felt absolutely right. The feeling of his large, warm ones over hers wasn't something she'd anticipated to feel so comforting. His fingers tracing light, random patterns on the palm of her hand was almost electrifying as if a current or spark was igniting inside her and she couldn't stop it. She feared the energy passing through her would intensify to the point where she wouldn't be able to handle it but in a way...she knew she'd be able to. The intense spark that was now spreading from her toes right up to her head was unexplainably comfortable. It was the sort of comfort one felt when they woke up, gazed out their bedroom window and saw it was the beginning of spring where the sun was shining, flowers of all colors were in everyone's gardens and birds were singing. It was a kind of warmth that felt so much nicer than crawling into bed under the covers for a long night's sleep.

"I just don't know how to kiss," she went on quietly.

"Neither do I," Peeta reminded her, allowing a small smile to show on his face. "I don't really know much about kissing either aside from hearing others talk about it but...there's no one else I'd rather share one with then you."

Katniss rolled his words around in her head, but found she'd forgotten the words she'd wanted to say.

"If you'd really rather not do this," he told her, still as gentle as ever. "I understand. I'd hate to have you do something you weren't ready for or just weren't comfortable doing but if you are—" and he gave her a warm, sincere smile before telling her, "I'd love for us to learn together."

Katniss relaxed almost instantly and lowered her head back onto the grass so the two were once again face to face. The combination of his words and the feeling of his hand pressed against her cheek were able to convince her that they were indeed alone. There was no one else around; no one hiding and waiting to come barge in on their private moment, and nobody that would say or do anything that would keep them from sharing a kiss. These thoughts raced through her mind only briefly, however. Her mind was soon focusing on something else – a sensation she knew nothing about for she was all but a stranger to it – and that was what it felt like to be so close to another person.

Just being this close to Peeta sent shivers up her spine, as if she could feel the warmth of him covering her like a protective blanket. In a way, it was like the warmth on his skin was radiating onto her own; as to whether or not this was really happening, she wasn't sure of. All she knew was that as she lay there on her side facing Peeta with his hand resting on her cheek, she didn't want to be anywhere else. She only wanted to be there with Peeta and while she'd never been so close to a boy before, she didn't feel as awkward or self-conscious as she might have expected. What she instead came to realize was that everything – the calmness of the water, the light wind in the trees, the leaves fluttering in every direction, the silence around them and being as close as she was to Peeta – it felt incredibly natural.

Having never kissed a boy before and now seconds away from doing so, she was hit with a sense of excitement and shyness as she leaned in closer. Naturally, she at once began getting hit with question after question. One after another they kept on coming. What would it feel like? How long would it last? Seconds? A minute? Longer than a minute? Would it feel as wet and slobbery as most made it out to be? Would her heart start racing and try and burst out of her chest? Would she lose herself entirely and slip out of reality and into some other realm? Would she enjoy it so much that she'd find herself craving more as she would for a piece of mouth-watering chocolate?

She barely had time to think of answers to her questions or consider what Peeta was thinking because it was now happening – their lips had gently touched and they were now kissing. What with how many questions she'd been pondering about, she hadn't seen how much closer Peeta's face was drawing to hers. She'd been too caught up all that had been going on in her head to even see that he was closing the gap that had existed between them. Even when their faces were only inches apart from each other's, still it was hardly dawning on her that she was about to kiss Peeta Mellark. Only when their lips had met did it finally dawn on her that she had agreed to kiss this blond-haired, blue-eyed boy that had loved her for eleven years.

Because they were now immersed in their own separate world, neither even noticed what was now moving smoothly across the enormous lake. Appearing in plain sight and as white as the clouds themselves was a Camerick Emerald Swan – one of the many common birds found in District Twelve, named for its stunningly colourful eyes. Its downy feathers were purely white; its beak was a solid black except for a yellowish tip, its neck was distinctively long and thick and its eyes were an exceptionally unique shade of green. The two lovebirds of course weren't even aware of its presence what with how engrossed they were with the magnetic connection they'd just created.

With one peaceful trill that broke softly, unnoticeably through the silence, the impressive bird continued its way across the vast expanse of water. Only once did it shift its attention to its left to come across two people positioned comfortably in the grass while colors of orange, yellow and red covered the ground. It then redirected its focus forward and without another sound, was soon drawing farther out of sight. Even with how loudly it had cried, neither Peeta nor Katniss had quite heard it. Every sound outside of their own private world was practically muted so long as they remained swept up in their own dreamlike state.

The only thing racing through Katniss's mind right then was the warmth and softness of Peeta's lips as he slowly and gently brushed them against her own. She figured his lips would be soft but it wasn't till they'd come into contact with her own that a sudden warmth was flooding throughout her entire body. It was a different kind of warmth than when he'd been cupping her hands in his own. She couldn't quite put her tongue on why this was so but it was undoubtedly the most invigorating feeling she'd ever experienced. There were no words to describe this new sensation, only that as she felt his lips moving in sync with hers the tingling sensation inside her was increasing intensely. It was building dramatically, growing in strength and her immediate thought was: _I don't want it to stop._ Never had she felt such butterflies in her stomach and never in her life had she felt this close to someone else. It was a closeness she hadn't shared with any other person because in all her life, she hadn't given her heart to anyone but a single trip down to the lake with Peeta Mellark had changed all of that. It felt like her whole body was heating up, her mind was going numb and her heart was beating so rapidly that she swore it might leap right out of her chest.

One thing she was certain of – what this kiss was doing to her mind, body and heart was overwhelmingly beautiful.

She was unfamiliar with such things and still wasn't entirely sure of what to make of everything but she knew one thing – she wouldn't mind feeling like this again. She'd wondered if the kiss would end up wet, clumsy, awkward and full of saliva, but it ended up being none of these at all. Peeta's movements were gentle and slow and this only made the butterflies in her stomach flutter even more out of control. As he went on brushing his lips against her own, she swore she'd gone weak in the legs at how wonderful it felt to have his lips moving with hers. There was just something about this tender kiss that pushed her deeper into the moment and to her own surprise, she found herself wishing it wouldn't end.


	21. Chapter 21

**CHAPTER 21**

 **SEPTEMBER**

 _Eleven years of waiting_ , and Peeta was lost hopelessly in the moment. He was so caught up in this one single kiss that he could hardly hear himself think. _It might have taken eleven years, but it was_ _completely_ _worth the wait. This is everything I ever wanted. To be this close to the girl I love and to be kissing her...it just feels like a dream. I wonder if it really could be a dream._

 _I know it took a while to accept how I felt_ , thought Katniss, who was just as lost in the moment. _But I love Peeta Mellark, and there's nowhere else I'd rather be and no one else I'd rather be with. Being here just feels so right._

When the two slowly separated, they were speechless for the longest time. Really, they were only silent for a moment or so but it felt like a lifetime for both of them. Neither Katniss nor Peeta could speak or even find the words; it was like they were still so numb from what had just happened that their mouths wouldn't let them speak. They didn't mind the silence – it wasn't awkward or uncomfortable – it was a calming kind of silence. Even when a few minutes had passed, still they found their mouths had gone dry and they weren't able to utter even a word.

Katniss let out a quiet laugh, causing Peeta to laugh as well. They weren't sure what was causing them to laugh or why they were laughing at all, but neither could help it. It was the first thing that escaped their mouths after having been locked in their dreamlike kiss and like with the silence, it felt not the least bit awkward.

"Our first kiss," remarked Peeta, staring out at the vast lake in front of them while losing himself in his thoughts. "Pretty special, don't you think?" The lake seemed even calmer and more tranquil than it had when he first arrived. On the surface of the glassy water he could see clear as day the reflection of the many pine trees surrounding them. It was then that he realized how truly beautiful of a place this was. It felt like a far more beautiful place than it had been when he'd first arrived there.

"Yeah," Katniss agreed, her eyes just as transfixed on the lake. "It was definitely _special_." _Did that really just happen? Did Peeta and I really just kiss, or am I just thinking we did? No, it definitely happened. I didn't know what to expect from it but I...I kind of liked it._

Peeta noticed the transfixed expression on her face and he titled his head slightly to the left. He knew his own thoughts were running wild but he was all too curious as to what was racing through the mind of the girl who was now his girlfriend.

"What are you thinking of?" he asked, and his voice dropped to something of a whisper.

She looked to him, tried to organize her thoughts and with a shrug and a quick laugh, she answered, "I don't know."

Peeta watched her and asked, "Are you thinking about us having just kissed?"

She nodded and said, "Yeah, definitely that."

He reached over, traced his fingers lightly along the top of her hand and still in a voice that was close to a whisper, he said, "Was it okay?"

When she finally responded, she said the one thing that made Peeta feel like he was once more sitting on cloud nine. Somewhere in his mind amidst all the excitement, shyness and wonder, he'd been struck with the worry of Katniss not enjoying the feeling of his lips on her own. He'd asked himself what he would do if she hated the feeling or just didn't think Peeta was a good kisser and instead, slobbered and drooled all over her face? He hadn't wanted to think of these questions but after having remained so hopelessly in love with this girl since he was five, it was pretty hard not to feel nervous about how she would feel about their first kiss.

But she relaxed and reassured him with a few simple, but amazing words.

With the tiniest smile, she told him bluntly and directly, "More than okay. It was...more amazing than I ever thought it would be."

"Really?" Without even having to see, Peeta knew upon hearing the word 'amazing', his eyes had grown twice their normal size.

Katniss confirmed this with a nod.

"So it wasn't too wet or...or slobbery or anything? Because I'd feel awful if I was too rough or there was too much saliva or—"

"No," she said, letting an amused laugh escape from under her breath. "No, it was perfect." She then asked him, "What are you thinking about?" She felt for sure she knew the answer already, but she'd be lying to herself if she didn't admit that she was feeling curious as to what was going inside Peeta's head, and what he was feeling about all of this.

Peeta chuckled lightly and said, "Same thing as you."

"And how would you describe it?" was the next obvious question.

He only had the think for the shortest of a second before coming up with the single, best and only way he could answer that question honestly. There were hundreds of words he could use to formulate what he thought of their first kiss, but only one of them could sum it up so easily.

"Kissing you," Peeta began, and the honesty in his voice couldn't have been more noticeable. "Made me feel like I was on top of the world. Like I was on a mountain or something."

"It couldn't have felt like that!" Katniss insisted. "How can someone feel like they're on top of the world?" Another laugh escaped her but it wasn't because she was laughing at him; she just wasn't aware of how truly incredible of an experience it had been for Peeta. It was like she'd forgotten how long he'd been in love with her, and how long he'd been dreaming of the day the two might actually share something as special and treasured as a kiss.

In a more quiet voice, she told him, "You're just saying that."

"No, it felt exactly like that," said Peeta, recalling just how much locking lips with Katniss had made him feel like he'd been standing on the world's tallest mountain. "I know it sounds weird but that's really how I felt, Katniss. I always heard kissing someone you love is like nothing else but I wouldn't have known how true that was if you and I didn't just kiss. It was like this warm feeling spread over me and...and I just didn't want it to stop."

Katniss met his eyes and the surprise of knowing he'd felt that same warmness spreading inside him made her think they really had shared the same connection.

"I felt that too."

"Butterflies in your stomach, a million thoughts racing through your head, your body goes numb and your heart's beating so much faster than it ever has and you're afraid it might actually burst out of your chest."

"You felt all that?" asked Katniss, and their eyes gazed only into the other's. "Just like me?"

"I did," said Peeta softly. "Everything you felt, Katniss...I felt." _It was like that kiss brought us together and made our minds become one. I don't know if that's what really happened or if it's even possible but it was more incredible than I could have imagined._

After he spoke, it was like the two could see into each other's eyes because without giving it a second thought, they let their lips speak the words they didn't need to. Once more they leaned in, parted their lips just slightly and like before, their lips met and that same compelling force left them all but enthralled. Touching his soft, supple lips for a second time, Katniss found herself more at loss for how she could explain what was deepening both in her mind and heart. Had an explosion of passion gone off that was causing her to feel so wonderfully numb? Was that recognizable warmth the reason for her feeling as though her entire body was heating up? Had an electrical surge passed through his body to hers and now she felt more alive and awake then she had in years?

Halfway through the kiss, Katniss felt a pair of warm hands coming to rest on her cheeks and she now felt closer than ever to this boy. She hoped they'd remain holding her face because as with the kiss, it was bringing such a rush of energy through her and it was uncontrollably intoxicating. Much to her delight, he went on caressing her face and it only seemed to make her want to stay like that for as long as time would allow.

After what felt like a lifetime, they pulled apart and still the warmth and surge of electricity hadn't quite left them.

"It's not that hard, is it?" said Peeta, the moment still lingering on his lips. "Kissing, I mean."

"No," said Katniss, her body somewhat in a daze. "I didn't think it'd be so...easy."

"Almost natural, really," added Peeta. "Like you don't need to put any thought into it."

Katniss nodded in agreement and smiled, "I really like kissing you, Peeta."

He smiled back at her and said with a touch of coyness, "And I really like kissing you, Katniss. Everything about you I love and...and I just wish I could just _freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it forever."_

After this, they didn't say much and felt they really didn't need to since they were both still wrapping their heads around having kissed for a second time. So rather than engage in conversation and discuss what they already knew they were feeling, they just stared up at the sky while identifying whatever shapes they happened to come across.

The sky was filled with dozens of clouds that would slowly drift by and at times, they wondered if they were moving at all. Most of the clouds were large, thick and noticeably puffy while others were small, thin and looked more like random streaks of white. The longer Peeta went on watching, the more he saw these clouds as white, majestic beds of cotton. Thinking like this made the clouds themselves appear interesting when most thought of clouds as nothing particularly exciting. It wasn't until they started catching sight of some pretty unique and interesting shapes that they'd chuckle and let the other know.

"That one looks like a cat," said Katniss, pointing to their right. "See? Those are the ears, and then the face and—"

"Yeah, I see it!" Peeta exclaimed, then pointed a bit to their left and said, "That one looks like a cupcake. There's the bottom, and then the top and that little round part could be a cherry on top. Looks pretty tasty actually. Though I'm not sure how tasty a cloud would be unless you like soft, puffy and watery."

Katniss laughed, entertained both by the cloud Peeta was referring to and his joke about tasting it and said, "Anything else you see from the bakery?"

Peeta looked for a moment longer and then said excitedly, "Actually, yes!See that one there? That big long one? That looks like a loaf of bread. No way that one looks like a cupcake. It's definitely bread."

Katniss shook her head, still laughing and said, "Maybe the cloud that looks like Buttercup will go and eat the bread? I know he eats it all the time at home. Makes a pig of himself and then I have to clean up the hairball."

"And the cupcake," Peeta added with a goofy grin. "No way he'd pass down one that's got a cherry on top. I know I wouldn't."

"Knowing him, he probably wouldn't," said Katniss, and returned her attention to the multiple clouds.

"Who would have thought there'd be a bakery in the sky?" said Peeta pensively, shaking his head in wonder. "Here all this time there was a bakery in the sky and I never knew it."

"A bakery of clouds."

"A bakery of white, fluffy loafs of bread," said Peeta with a grin that soon turned into full on laughter. "A never-ending supply of goodness for all to embrace."

"I think I'll stick with eating the bread at your bakery, thanks," was all Katniss said.

"Speaking of bakeries," said Peeta and pointed far to their right. "See that triple-layered cake way over there? If we just had some chocolate frosting we'd be all set for dessert."

They spent the next twenty minutes cloud-watching until Peeta looked over and asked, "Katniss?"

"Yeah?"

"Before we leave, can I ask you for one more thing?"

"Another kiss?" she asked with a light chuckle.

"No," he said smiling and went on genuinely, "I was actually wondering if you might mind...singingfor me?"

She turned her head to look at him and asked while feeling somewhat confused, "What?"

"I haven't heard you sing in eleven years," he told her softly. "I was just hoping I might get the chance to hear you sing it again – the Valley Song. I'd love to hear it again and you're the only one I'd want to hear singing it. Kindergarten was so long ago and I'd give anything to hear you sing that song again."

"Well, I...I don't really like singing in front of people," she told him nervously. "I mean, it was different when we were kids and all. I was little then and I didn't care that much, but now I'd just feel embarrassed."

"Don't feel embarrassed," he said kindly. "I bet you sound even more beautiful than you did all those years ago. But if you'd really rather not sing, I understand. I wouldn't want to force you into doing something you'd rather not."

There was a short pause before Katniss told him, "Okay. I guess I'd be more embarrassed if it was in front of a group, but if it's just you..."

"It's just me," he said with a reassuring smile. He then added in hopes of making her feel more comfortable, "And you don't have to worry about anyone judging you because you already know how I feel, right? To me, you've got the most beautiful singing voice I've ever heard."

She chuckled and said, "Yeah, that's true. Alright then..."

She waited only a minute or two before starting, but once she began, Peeta was hit with a wave of such emotion that it felt like a huge weight was being pressed onto his shoulders, but in a good way. He was instantly brought back to when the two were five and he'd first heard her sing the Valley Song in music assembly. And here he was eleven years later listening to it again and it sounded just as beautiful as he remembered.

 _Deep in the meadow, under the willow_

 _A bed of grass, a soft green pillow_

 _Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes_

 _And when again they open, the sun will rise_

Peeta was absolutely mesmerized, and couldn't take his eyes off her. She looked even more graceful than she had so long ago when her hair had been in two braids and she'd been wearing that red plaid dress. Her voice made him go hopelessly weak in the knees and the only thing he could think as he watched and listened to her in awe was: _I'll never stop loving you. Years from now, nothing will have changed. You'll still be the only girl that can make me feel like this._

 _Here it's safe, here it's warm_

 _Here the daisies guard you from every harm_

 _Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

 _Here is the place where I love you_

By this point, Peeta was now feeling a sense of joy when he reflected on what Katniss had told him earlier and the fact that she and him were now together. He could now happily call the girl he'd loved for eleven years his _girlfriend_ _._ _He was now no longer living a life where he stood off to the sides adoring her in secret. She now knew just how deeply he cared for her and to make things even better, she'd revealed that she too had developed feelings for him. When he'd woken up that morning with the sun shining through his window, he hadn't anticipated what an incredible afternoon would be waiting for him._

 _Deep in the meadow, hidden far away_

 _A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray_

 _Forget your woes and let your troubles lay_

 _And when again its morning, they'll wash away_

 _It sounds even more beautiful than it did back when we were kids_ , thought Peeta who was wrapped up in each and every word of the song. In a way, each word itself was like its own separate song and when strung together, it produced a sound that he could have easily drifted off to if he was tired and ready for sleep. He was awake though and so long as she was singing that song, he wouldn't be heading to bed anytime soon.

 _Here it's safe, here it's warm_

 _Here the daisies guard you from every harm_

 _Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

 _Here is the place where I love you_

When Katniss had finished, Peeta commented, "That was lovely."

"I wonder if any mockingjays are—" said Katniss but before she could finish, she was cut short by the familiar sound of rustling in the trees and the flapping of wings. When she and Peeta looked up they saw the unmistakable birds called mockingjays perched high up in the trees. It was impossible to miss the black-colored birds with the few white patches, soft feathers and long tails. Their beaks had opened widely and the gathered birds were now breaking out in full song while directing their attention to the girl below who'd presented them with a song. There wasn't a single bird that hadn't broken out in full song and as they went on chirping and trilling, all Peeta could do was stare wide-eyed at the gathered birds. It was tricky to count just how many were present but if they had to guess, they would have reckoned there were about ten in total.

"I've never seen one up close before," Peeta proclaimed while rising to his feet to get a better look.

"Really?" asked Katniss in surprise.

"Really," said Peeta who was now watching them eagerly. They were even more fascinating up close and listening to them sing in full chorus made Peeta question their nature even more. "The only time I've ever seen them was that first day at school when you sang. Other than that, I've never seen one up close like this. I've heard them once in a while outside in the yard but they don't hang out much where I live. Maybe two or three times I year I'll hear them but I never had the chance to actually see one up close."

The two stood there until the birds had finished their singing which went on for roughly five minutes. They recaptured the elegance that had been so visible in Katniss's voice and soon the entire woods were filled with their musical notes. If anyone else had been wandering along and happened to make their way deep enough into the forest, they would have been met with this enchanting sound. But since Katniss and Peeta were the only ones there, they were the only two that had the pleasure of hearing a performance from a flock of singing mockingjays.

Upon completing their song, the group of birds gave one last cry, opened their wings, gazed up towards the trees and then took to the sky. With one swift motion, they'd left the branches of the trees to sail up and into the air where they divided and flew off in separate directions. Some soared straight off into the distance towards the opposite side of the lake while others went either left or right. Less than a minute was all it took for the songbirds to vanish out of sight and Peeta and Katniss were left standing under the trees where they'd just been singing. In such a short amount of time the woods had gone from being a place overflowing with the voices of mockingjays to a place where all you could hear was the faint rustling of the wind in the trees.

"Never would have thought I'd see that many," said Peeta in an awestruck voice. "I've only ever heard maybe one or two but to hear that many...that was amazing."

"They are amazing," Katniss concurred. "No wonder they're District Twelve's favourite bird. No other bird around can do what they do."

Peeta smiled and said, "I didn't expect to see that many of them but there was one thing that didn't surprise me."

Katniss turned and looked to him, waiting for his reply.

"They're still just as in love with your voice as they were when they first heard you sing back in kindergarten," Peeta announced.

Katniss waved him off as if she didn't agree with him and said, "They'll sing for almost anyone."

"Really?" said Peeta. He chuckled under his breath and told her in disagreement, "No way they would have done that for me!"

"You never know," Katniss offered with a shrug. "Have you ever tried singing to one?"

"No!" Peeta exclaimed. By the tone of his voice, Katniss had the idea he actually thought her question was funny because another chuckle was attempting to escape from his lips. "No way they would have sung for me."

"Why not?"

"I can't sing," he said bluntly. "If there's one thing I can't do, it's sing."

"Have you ever tried?" she asked, giving him a crooked smile.

"No," he said quickly. "But that doesn't—"

"Then how do you know they wouldn't sing back to you?"

"Okay, I wouldn't," he admitted, putting his hands up in surrender. He gave a little smile and went on, "But I just can't sing, Katniss. Really."

"You say you can't," she cleverly corrected. "But you've never actually tried. You can't know unless you try."

"You're right, you're right," he said with a light sigh. He met her eyes and with a goofy grin, suggested, "But how about you be the one to sing to the mockingjays? I don't know if I'd like to try singing to those birds. I just have this image in my head of me starting a song, them not taking to it and poking me in the face with their beaks and chasing me out of the woods."

"I'm sure they wouldn't hate it that much."

"You never know," said Peeta. With an amusingly humorous expression, he whispered, "What if they turned into pokingbirds? You saw their beaks, Katniss. They could inflict some serious poking on me if they wanted."

"You are hilarious," she said chuckling. "The things you come up with are just...crazy. Crazy but hilarious."

"Thank you," said Peeta, beaming. "I'll take crazy and hilarious any day. Not a bad combination in my books."

"So you really don't want to sing to them then?" she asked.

Peeta gave it some final thought, came to the same conclusion and that was, "No."

"Fine with me," she said casually. Putting her hands on her hips, she questioned, "So if I'm going to be singing, what will you be doing?"

"Oh, that's easy," came the immediate answer. "I'll bake bread, draw, paint, listen to you sing, work on my math and hope I get better at it and—"

"Well, you're all set then," said Katniss and gave him a thumbs up.

He too gave a thumbs up and proclaimed with confidence, "Looks like we both are then. Now we just need someone to say ready, set go."

Katniss glimpsed over to her left, spotted something on one of the trees and looked harder while trying to guess at what it could be. She furrowed her brows in contemplation and Peeta could tell she was unquestionably mulling over what she was seeing. Consequently, this got him feeling equally intrigued.

"What are you staring at?"

"That over there," she said pointing to the specific tree she was observing. "See that tree over there?"

"What about it?"

"I think there's a carving on it," she replied, speaking half to herself and half to Peeta. "Like a word or a picture, but I can't tell from here."

"Let's take a look," said Peeta and began making his way over to the tree. Katniss followed behind and when they'd reached the tree, they inspected the image Katniss had pointed out.

Up close, they saw it was indeed a carving and appeared to have been cut with some kind of knife. It wasn't anything detailed and was rather a very simple drawing but it was one that held a remarkably long back-story. Drawn on the surface of the tree was a giant heart and engraved inside it was: T + C. There was no mistaking that these initials belonged to two individuals but as to who these two people could be, neither of them had a clue. All they could tell from what was inscribed on the bark of the tree was that two people – undoubtedly in love – had stumbled across this tree. When this had happened was beyond them but they presumed it must have been some while ago. The fact that the carving had an aged, faded look to it was a dead giveaway but aside from that, the story of these two lovebirds was a mystery for them. Who they were, where they'd come from and what their story was would forever remain unknown to them.

"Wonder who they were," said Peeta. He slowly ran his fingers along the rough outline of the heart, and then of the two letters as if trying to absorb any veiled information. After staring at the carved picture and thinking it over, he concluded, "Guess there's no way to find out though."

"It could have been anyone," added Katniss. She too was examining what had been carved into the tree but not until yet another image came floating into her peripheral vision. Inquisitive as to what it could be, she took a few steps forward and what she saw made absolute sense.

Firmly embedded into the back of the tree was a hunting knife. Its handle was thick, deep red in color and when she grasped it with one of her hands, its texture was unusually thick. When she took the blade's handle in the same hand she'd use to feel it, she tightened her hold and with one swift motion, yanked it right out of the tree. It came out fairly easy and when she held it up for Peeta to see, his only response was to let out a chuckle.

"Should have known there'd be a knife here somewhere."

"Wonder why they left it here," said Katniss with a touch of confusion. "You think they would have taken it with them."

"Who knows?" said Peeta, his eyes alternating between the knife and the inscription on the tree. "Maybe they wanted it left here."

"But...why?"

"Maybe they figured there'd be more lovebirds to come," he offered. "I bet they knew they wouldn't be the only ones to find this place, fall in love and want to write their story on one of these trees. For all we know there could be other carvings just like this one all over the place. If we went and looked around, we might find more hearts and things people had written."

"And I bet that would take hours to do," she noted and gave one look to the endless number of trees surrounding them.

"Hours and hours," Peeta threw in.

It was noticing Peeta holding the knife and remembering the engraved heart on the tree that she was struck with an idea.

"Peeta?"

"Mmm?" His attention was now solely on Katniss.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she said quietly. Her eyes remained on the knife only momentarily and were now focused on the large tree in front of them.

"I think so," he said and with an eager, shining sparkle in his eye, asked, "You want to take this knife, find a tree and—"

"And write our story in it," she declared, finishing his statement.

His entire face broke out in a keen smile and with palpable excitement, said, "Let's find ourselves a tree."

"I think we already have one," she reminded him.

When he reflected back on all that had unfolded while being there, he had to shake his head at how amazingly perfect it all was. Every piece of the puzzle was coming together and now with the last and final piece, he understood exactly what she meant.

"The tree we were sitting under," he murmured. Even with how quietly he was speaking, his hushed voice sounded noticeably loud in the air of silence that hung around them. "Of all the trees here, that's the only one that could be ours." _That's where it all happened. We confessed our love and kissed for the first time. Now that I think of it, I think I fell in love with her all over again while sitting under that tree._

"Let's go then," she said and together, the two sauntered back over to the tree they'd been sitting under since they first arrived.

Peeta reached his hand out and sliding it down the length of the towering tree, it felt extremely smooth whereas most of the others had a rough and scratchy surface. The texture of this one, however, was unlike any they'd come across and Peeta figured they'd have no trouble engraving a heart and their first initials onto it. Considering they also had a sharp knife they could use, they were all set to write their love story and have it become part of the very woods themselves.

"Time to get writing," he pronounced and brought the blade of the knife onto the bark of the tree and began doing just that.

As he positioned it in the center of the tree, he made sure to have a firm, tight grasp on the handle before performing the first cut. After ensuring he had a fixed hold on the tool, he narrowed his focus and slowly and carefully, started scraping the tip along the bark. Just like when decorating the cakes at home or painting a work of art in Mr. Odair's class, his movements were steady, precise and controlled with no hint of shakiness. As with his work in the bakery and at school, this was yet another opportunity for a creative piece to be sketched. Only this time, he wasn't using a pencil, paintbrush or pastry bag – he was using a knife. With its pointed tip, there was the potential to carve on this tree a basic, yet meaningful heart that could be discovered by anyone and everyone.

The task proved much easier than he'd expected and within a few minutes a fully-drawn heart was now showing on the tree. It took even less time to add in the initials of their names but with how delicate Peeta was with his creations, he was in no rush. He was treating this no differently than he would to a cake or painting and Katniss could sense it in his body language alone. She'd seen him plenty of times in class and knew that when his mind was set on anything art-related, he entered another world. It was one that remained locked up inside him and came out only when his creative self resurfaced. The intense, thorough concentration that went into what he was doing was astounding and as she paid closer attention to his eyes, she saw they were heavily focused. The special look his face took on in times when he was deeply concentrated was one that couldn't be overlooked. Above all though, what Katniss commonly found herself fixating over were his lashes which at that moment, looked so much longer and more golden in color than she'd ever recalled. How he managed to blink without them getting tangled up in each other, she wasn't sure of but somehow he was able to do so.

When she spotted a sliver of light appearing from above, she lifted her head to see where it was coming from. Through a breach in the treetops a little to their right, a ray of shining light was now traveling down to fall upon Peeta's lashes and as a result, it made them appear that much brighter. For all sorts of reasons, she was becoming increasingly mesmerized standing there and she guessed odds were that Peeta was in just as mesmerized of a state. While she was engrossed with watching him work, he was absorbed in his own personal world of creative possibilities.

"There," he exhaled, letting the knife drop to the ground. With a sigh of contentment, he announced, "Our story's officially done."

Now carved meticulously on the tree under which they'd shared their first kiss was a heart and written inside it was: K + P. Their story of finding love at this peaceful lake when autumn was fresh was now part of whatever other stories were written on the trees. So far, they'd only discovered another tree that had been carved but as they'd mentioned earlier, there was bound to be an assortment of love stories if one searched hard enough. But because the day was coming to an end and the sun would soon be leaving the sky, they decided it was time to be heading back. It had been an afternoon full of pleasant surprises but as with all days, it was almost over and there was no reason for them to remain there any longer.

Before leaving entirely, Katniss had one final question.

"What should we do with the knife?"

"I say we leave it," replied Peeta, placing the knife directly under the tree so it was resting vertically against the large trunk. "You never know who else might come here and fall in love."

"Alright," she answered. She gave one final glance out at the calm, motionless lake and said, "Let's go."

So with a sense of contentment and relaxation, they left the tranquil surroundings of the lake where so much had happened in only a few hours and made their way back for home. In the strangest way, it felt a little odd leaving the place as if they'd been there for days on end. What had been a few simple hours was starting to feel like a lifetime and it struck them how fond they'd grown of these woods. Everything from the dancing leaves that had fluttered to the ground, the definite aroma of pine that lingered in the air, the tree they'd carved their story of love on, the softness of the grass, the singing mockingjays, the patch of colourful flowers and the stretch of water that appeared like a shimmering crystal had all begun to feel like home. Both had the feeling it wouldn't be long till they were sitting once again down on that cushiony grass, staring up at the various-shaped clouds that floated lazily by.

On the way home, the two walked hand-in-hand, enjoying the stillness of everything around them and neither had any desire to speak. The other's company was all they needed and even as they strolled along taking in their surroundings, others seemed to do the speaking for them. A young girl was laughing and chasing after a frisky Labrador puppy whose tail was wagging vigorously. A guy about their own age sat on a bench and as they listened, they became swept up in the sound of his guitar. He was rather talented and was a fairly decent singer and both took in the sounds of his instrument and vocals till they could no longer hear him. Farther along they came across a backyard where two sisters who were stretched out on the grass while pointing their fingers this way and that and pretty much everywhere.

"Wonder what they're doing," thought Katniss out loud.

"I Spy maybe?" was Peeta's guess.

Not five seconds after he'd said that did one of the girls exclaim, "I spy with my little eye, something that is...yellow!"

Peeta gave Katniss a smile and guffawed, "I think I know what she spotted."

"What?"

"Here, I'll give you a clue," said Peeta and was unable to keep from smiling. "Let's play our own game of I Spy. What do you see around us that's yellow?"

"Well...nothing, really," she said quickly. "Earlier I would have said the sun but you can hardly see that now or maybe flowers but I don't see any around."

"Look harder," Peeta went on. "What's yellow?"

"Nothing," she said with a slightly irritated shrug. "Unless she got her color mixed up with green or some other color, I don't know."

Peeta laughed at this and said with conviction, "No, I don't think she got her color wrong. Think, Katniss. Think hard because it's not that hard, really. It's right in—"

"Well, maybe it's not hard for you but it sure as heck is for me," she said stubbornly. "There's nothing yellow to see!"

"But there is."

"Is there?"

"Yes."

"Then I can't see it," she concluded, still in that stubborn tone.

"Okay, I'll tell you," said Peeta. With a widening grin, he reached up, grasped one of his strands of blond hair and waved it as if to say, 'This was what you were looking for.'

She shook her head and in hilarious frustration, grumbled, "Why didn't I see that?"

Peeta glanced over and called out to the girls, "Was my hair the yellow you saw?"

"Yes!" one of them chirped and at once she and her sister began giggling.

When Peeta turned back to face Katniss, he saw she was still busy shaking her head.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Of all the people in the world," she said with certainty. "No one's as bad at this game as I am."

"You're not that bad," said Peeta in disagreement. As if changing his mind, he told her, "Well, maybe you're not the best at finding—"

"Hey!" she chastised and shot him a steely glare. "That doesn't mean you can go and—"

"I'm teasing, Katniss," he interjected playfully while putting a hand on her shoulder. "Please don't think I mean that because I don't. You know what I'm like with jokes. I say things I don't mean but I hardly ever mean it. I just like doing it for a goof, that's all."

She stared at him for about a moment and then he heard her saying, "It's a good thing you and I are together now because if we weren't, I just might have given you a punch in the shoulder for saying that."

"Ouch," said Peeta, wincing slightly. His mood changed instantly though and with a knowing smile, he said, "But you wouldn't hit me, would you?"

Katniss gave him no answer.

"You wouldn't hit your art tutor, would you?" he went on, sliding his hand down her arm till he reached hers. Without hesitating, he slipped his fingers into hers and gave her a charming smile that she hadn't yet seen from this boy. "You wouldn't hit your boyfriend?" His voice trailed off into a distinct whisper and when he pressed his head lightly against hers, an explosive warmth erupted in both his body and hers.

She didn't have to give this question a second thought before telling him softly, "Never."

By the time they reached Katniss's house, the sun had disappeared for the evening and the sky was now cast in a deep, crimson orange. It felt like hardly an hour had passed since they'd wandered down to the lake but now the day was nearing its final hours.

"Well, that was a _very_ interesting afternoon," Peeta chuckled with a smile. "Wouldn't you say?"

Katniss laughed at the remark and said, "Yeah, and I could think of a few other words too."

"Hey, I was thinking," said Peeta, an idea hitting him. "You know that math test we have coming up? The one we're supposed to be having the first week of October?"

Katniss nodded and said, "The one on algebra."

"I was thinking about that," he went on. "And I don't know about you, but I'm pretty nervous."

"Why?" she asked. "It's not gonna be hard."

"Do you know how many questions it's gonna be?" he stated, his eyes widening to the size of marbles.

"Yeah, fifty," she said casually as if they were discussing the weather. "What's wrong with that?"

"That's a lot of questions, Katniss," he pronounced and having to hear her remind him again of how big of a test it was going to be only worsened his nerves. "Maybe you're not worried but I guess you've got nothing to fret about because you're a genius when it comes to math. You fly through the hardest equations and when I try and tackle one, I just get a headache."

"That's how I feel in art most of the time," she said with a light chuckle.

"But Mr. Odair's not looking for perfection," he cleverly pointed out. "What he wants is effort, participation and a willingness to learn and try new techniques. With Ms. Coin and math in general, it's either right or wrong. Pass or fail. There's no right or wrong in art. It's all interpretation, discovery and how one expresses themself with colors. See where I'm going with this?"

She shrugged, understanding that he did have a point as to how the two classes differed. "Alright, that's true. You do kind of have to know what you're doing to pass."

"That's why I've been thinking and now that you just said that, I can't think of a better idea."

"So what's your idea?" she said inquiringly.

"I was wondering if you'd like to do some studying together," was the answer. "I'm kind of nervous about it and I could _definitely_ use your help. I've been studying over the past few days but I just find when I work on my own, it doesn't do the trick. When you're there helping me and giving me tips on how to remember stuff, it's like everything clicks, and that's why I was really hoping you wouldn't mind studying together. We could maybe do it at my house on a day when my parents and brothers aren't home. Mom and Dad go out a lot to do errands to get supplies for the bakery and all, Luchi's out with his friends whenever he's not working and I don't know what Rye will do, but I'm guessing he'd be out doing something too."

"Alright," said Katniss with a nod. "Saturday works for me. I don't know if your parents or brothers will be home or not but you can always let me know if another day works better."

"Great!" said Peeta. He then threw in excitedly, "I'll even make us a cake or something. That way we can do something fun while obsessing over boring algebra. Sound good?"

"Mmm, that sounds good," said Katniss, the idea of cake sounding very appetizing and in her mind, it was like she could taste the mouth-watering treat already. "Okay. I'll see you then."

She was about to turn and leave when she gave him one last look and said, "Peeta are you...are you asking me out on a date?"

"Well, I...I don't really know how much fun studying on a date would be," he said and felt his cheeks flushing with red. "But I...I guess in a way, I am, even though it's not really a normal date. I guess it'd be more like a study date." He paused briefly and then added cheerily, "At least we can have some cake! Chocolate frosting, licking mix out of the batter, sprinkles and loads of other stuff. That'll be fun, right?"

She laughed at the image of her and Peeta licking a spoon covered in chocolate and agreed, "Definitely."

"So it's a date then?" he asked. There was an obvious, hopeful sparkle surfacing in his azure eyes.

"It's a date," she confirmed.

Peeta smiled, leaned in and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead while whispering, "See you then."

She was all set to leave and head back home when out of the blue she thought of...Gale. She wasn't sure why she was suddenly thinking about him now, but she was thinking about him all the same. Peeta could sense that something was on her mind and not wanting to leave too quickly, he spoke up.

"What is it?" he asked curiously.

"I was just thinking about Gale," she told him openly. "You know he loves me, right?"

Peeta nodded and said softly, "What do you think he'll think of us being together?" _Based on what he said to me yesterday at lunch, I doubt he's gonna be happy._

Katniss thought for a moment, and then said honestly, "He'll be mad and pretty jealous but I know Gale really well and he's not the kind of person that stays mad at things for that long. Yeah, he'll be really upset and all but he'll accept it. I know he won't like it and he'll still keep wishing that it was us together but he'll be okay with it. He won't be alright with it right away and it'll probably take him some time to wrap his around it, but he will. I know that. He told me himself he just wants me to be happy, so I'm pretty sure he'll accept us being together. It might take a while, but he won't stay mad about it forever. And even if he wasn't happy about it, we're too good of friends for him to not let us be together. I've known him since I was twelve and if there's one thing I know he cherishes, it's how good of friends we are. He's said that so many times and even if it hurts knowing I still don't feel that way about him, he won't let it control him. I've seen him in the worst mood where he yelled and put up a fuss but eventually he calmed down and realized there wasn't much reason to be angry in the first place."

 _I really hope so_ , was all Peeta could think. _Because I'll never stop having these nightmares if he keeps being jealous. That's the only reason I can think of for why I'm having them. Then again, even if he stops being jealous, I wonder if I'd still be having nightmares about him and Katniss being together. I just hope that he'll be okay with it. Maybe then the nightmares can really stop and sleep can be good again._

"Well, he is your best friend," Peeta reminded her. "If I were in his shoes, I'd just want my friend to be happy and to be able to do what they want. Friendship's a powerful thing and I'm sure he'd hate to lose you as a friend. I know I would if I were him."I'm sure deep down he'll be happy for you."

"He will," she agreed after having thought it over. "And like I said, he's not one to stay mad at stuff for too long. He's gotten mad over stuff all the time and then not much later he's okay with it. He just needs time to cool down but give it a while, and he's fine again. He's been like that since we met. He'll definitely be okay with us being together even if he has to force himself to accept it. He won't like it, but I know him well enough to know that he'll find it in himself to accept it. Our friendship means too much to him for him not to."

After they'd said goodbye and Katniss was already inside getting greeted by a hissing Buttercup, Peeta turned and started heading home himself. He'd almost gotten home when the unpleasant familiar screeching of the hawk returned. He was completely oblivious to it as if the voice were invisible or if he had plugs in his ears but it was there all the same. If he would have been able to hear the deep, throaty voice that belonged in hell, it would have given him chills. It was an unnerving sound that proved just as intolerable as fingernails scraping a chalkboard that caused one's ears to ring, rattle and holler with pain.

 _Getting bold, aren't we?_ it shrieked in fury. _Getting close to Katniss and thinking she'll fall for you and not for Hawthorne? Fine by me. If it's a battle you want, then it's a_ _war_ _you'll get, Bread Boy. Let me just warn you though, that if you keep this up, you'll have no way of escaping what_ _I_ _can throw at you. You've no clue as to what I can do to you; the pain I can inflict upon you. Keep this up and I promise you whatever visions you have for your fairytale future will be shaken and rattled and turned so inside out...you won't even know how to cope._

When Peeta was stepping through the front doors to his house, it was no longer the voice of the hawk that was speaking to him. Gone was the harsh, guttural sound that would have disrupted anyone's mind and left it drowning in darkness. The voice now growling into his ear was Gale and just like with the hawk's voice, Peeta was entirely unaware of the voice lurking about in his head. He was oblivious to the fact that the guy that had just warned him the previous day was in no way about to accept what he felt was unbearable. He was watching their every move, wondering what he would be faced with next, scheming his next devious move and holding back till the time was right.

He was ready, waiting...and more sure of himself since the day he'd met Katniss.

There was no questioning that it was Gale's voice as it snarled enviously: _you want to compete, Mellark? Fine. I've just got one thing to say to you then: may the odds be_ _ever_ _in_ _your_ _favour_.


	22. Chapter 22

**CHAPTER 22**

 **OCTOBER**

Ever since that afternoon down by the lake when Katniss had revealed her feelings and admitted that she _was_ interested in a relationship, Peeta's thoughts were filled with nothing but delight. The worries and doubts that had stayed with him for years while growing up were gone entirely. The days of hiding in the shadows and watching Katniss in silence while hoping they'd somehow get together were history. The two were now officially a couple and within only a few days Peeta was already feeling as if they'd been together for over a month. For him, it was almost too good to be true and even harder to believe that it was reality and not some blissful dream. They weren't just friends in art class anymore – they were now boyfriend and girlfriend and were held together by an emotional bond that was fuelled purely by love.

They'd spent the month of September getting to know each other, sharing laughs and had been kept quite busy by their one-on-one tutoring arrangement. Peeta had given Katniss a hand in art since she wasn't the strongest with creative ideas, techniques or how to go about finding inspiration when it was greatly needed. In return, she'd been busy drilling him repeatedly with algebraic equations, plotting values on graphs and how to go about utilizing calculators to help solve the trickiest problems Coin would challenge them with. As they'd been so wrapped up with school, weekly quizzes and ensuring they received decent grades, the weeks had sped by in a blur. While it made Peeta's head spin thinking how incredibly fast the month had gone by, it couldn't be compared to how he felt when reminding himself that Katniss had given him her heart. That alone got him spinning in every direction and he was all but thrilled to think what the upcoming months would have in store for them.

It was now the start of October, and though so amazingly hard for Peeta to believe, their relationship had reached an entirely new level. What had begun as a blooming friendship in tenth grade art class had grown till it had soared to new, invigorating heights.

But it meant more to Peeta and held far more importance to him then he figured most realized. Where students in high school would date, experiment, break up and then embark on the search for the next great partner, this wasn't the case for him. For a large amount of people, it might have felt like a game and a chase to go after whoever they desired, but it wasn't anything like this for Peeta, and never had been. He'd had his eyes on Katniss since he was five years old and the fact that he was now aware of how she felt about him, he felt like what he'd waited so long and patiently for was now finally his. That glorious moment he'd longed for since he was merely a child had been granted to him when they'd agreed to meet one day down at the lake.

It was the day when sparks had flown and reality became much brighter and grander for both Katniss and Peeta.

There was only one set of eyes in the school that kept a careful watch on the two lovebirds while keeping an especially close watch over Peeta and those were the eyes of Hawthorne. The second Gale heard the news he was struck with such a raging fury that all he wanted was to grab hold of him, smash his head into the wall and watch him cry out in distress. He wanted the guy who'd slithered into Katniss's life to suffer and feel the fire that he was now currently feeling. The hawk inside him was desperate to be let out and take down the prey that had so boldly ignored and made light of the threat the creature had warned him of. To his own relief, he found he was effortlessly able to keep his emotions in check and not go letting them loose to the person he loathed above all others. Despite the flames that burned inside of him, it was an inferno of anger that wouldn't be forced onto anyone's shoulders – Peeta in particular. It was imperative and enormously crucial that he present himself as calm, cool and in control of his countless inner demons. Not doing so would result in total failure and as it was only the beginning of the school year, he still had all the time in the world to change what desperately needed changing.

It was clear that Peeta had no intentions of listening to Gale because Katniss Everdeen was now _his. Upon hearing that she'd revealed her feelings to him, the sting of it was painful enough but it came as no shock to him. Since their first day at Madderson High, he'd been observing them carefully and as the days passed by, suspicion had turned to envy which had then transformed to frustration. The aggravation that took over his conscious had been like a spreading virus, but there was no reason to fear that now. As much had happened between Katniss and Peeta, just as much had occurred with Gale but while he was aware of their situation...they were in no way aware of his. It was a horrid secret that would stay boggled up in his mind and his only and knowing they'd be oblivious to it all sent a surge of confidence through his entire body. Just as he'd been assured, he need not worry about letting his anger escape him because it would remain locked up inside him with no chance of breaking free._

It was the day after Katniss had gone to the lake that she was sitting with Gale in the cafeteria doing what they normally did on free, which was simply chatting and hanging out. Unlike the many other times they'd sat around sharing stories and discussing whatever popped into their heads though, this time was different. Katniss had sensed that the moment she'd seen Gale making his way towards her from out in the hall. On his face she'd read an expression of annoyance and the closer he came to their table, the more obvious it became what mood he was in. From head to toe his body was tense and rigid as if all his muscles had turned hard as rock which would be the reason for why his movements were so undeniably stiff. His face was hard and lacked any emotion and she assumed it was because what he'd been told had sent him into a state of inevitable numbness. His hands clenched repetitively into fists as if he was fighting to hold onto his much calmer self but was losing terribly.

When he'd finally reached their table and Katniss gave him a long, hard look, there was only one word that could best describe her best friend at that moment – tense.

"So, it's true then, huh?" uttered Gale quietly, his eyes glued to the table. They'd been like that for the past few minutes and still he was powerless to avert his gaze from the blank, white surface. "About you and Peeta?" He spit out the word 'Peeta' like it left a taste of horrid poison in his mouth.

"Gale, I already told you," said Katniss, her voice firm. "I have feelings for him. When school began, I wasn't even sure if he and I would be friends. I was too busy worrying about passing art and just getting an alright grade but things changed. I like him having him around and I really enjoy his company. I know you want me to feel like that about you, but you can't force love onto people, Gale. When are you gonna understand that I just don't feel that—"

"That way about me?" he snapped, shooting her a look of anger and hurt. In a much quieter voice that no one but her could make out, he added, "Yeah, I know that. You've told me that plenty enough times. I know. You don't have to remind me, Catnip. You've told me about a hundred times and I—"

"But only because you keep bringing it up," she shot back and found herself struggling just to keep calm. "I just don't get why you can't accept that, Gale? We've been through this so many times and we just keep going back to square one. All the arguing and throwing stuff back and forth at each other, it...it just keeps going on and on and we can't keep doing this." She'd been through this talk more than once with Gale and the more he brought it up, the more frustrated she got. He just never seemed to be willing to accept how she _didn't_ feel about him. She thought he'd be a little less upset about she and Peeta being together but it was clear that he was hurting.

"I just don't get what you see in him," muttered Gale under his breath. "He's a baker, Katniss! He's a baker who likes painting pictures. And you think that's appealing _because_? You haven't even known him that long! What, a month and suddenly you two are together? Yet you've known me for years? Four years we've been friends! Tell me how that makes sense, Katniss! How come you don't feel that way about me? What does Peeta have that I don't? What makes him so special?"

Their conversation went on for about ten long minutes. Gale was obviously hurt by the fact that Katniss was indeed in love with another guy but eventually, it seemed like Gale had calmed down a bit. He'd lowered his voice and was no longer shouting in anger. He was just sitting with his head down while lightly tapping his fingers in no set rhythm. When at last he spoke, Katniss could sense that he had definitely calmed down, just like he always did. It always took him a while to calm his nerves but he always managed to do so and as she'd hoped, he'd thankfully done so again. She knew that his initial reaction of she and Peeta now officially being together would be one of hurt and jealousy but she also knew that sooner or later he would accept that that was what she wanted. And he was coming to accept it. She could tell by the calmed look in his face and even by in the greyness in his eyes that he was starting to realize that Katniss was happy.

As her best friend, disrupting her happiness was the last thing he'd ever dream of doing.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly and dropped his head in shame. "I...I know you like him, and I shouldn't be so hard on you. It seems like you really love him and as your best friend, I should be happy for you. And I am. I really am. I mean, he doesn't seem like the kind of guy that's gonna hurt or abuse you so maybe...maybe you two really are meant for each other. I guess a few weeks ago I thought he might not be a guy that could be trusted but with what you've said about him, it looks like I'm wrong. And if I am, then you being with him shouldn't be a problem because that's what makes you happy and...and all I want is to see you happy, Katniss."

Katniss gave a small smile and said, "Thanks Gale. I knew you'd be upset about it and I do feel bad for you because I know how much you care about me but I really appreciate you being happy for me. That means a lot. I don't want to see you hurting like this and I hope things will get better for you."

"They will," he said softly, and she picked up on the evident confidence that was increasing in his tone. "No way am I gonna get in the way and try and take him from you, Katniss. As long as I can accept that you guys are together and try not to let it bother me so much, we're gonna be fine." In a more reassuring voice, he told her, "I'll be fine. I think the initial shock of the idea of you and Peeta together is what made me act so angry but a month's gone by and in the weirdest way, I feel like I'm calming down a bit. And I hope I am because I can't stand the thought of us going our own ways and never being friends again."

"We've been through a lot," said Katniss, reflecting on all the memories – both good and bad – that she and Gale shared. They'd been through ups and downs, sadness and joy, hurdles and triumphs and had gotten through most everything together. "We've fought and argued but what friends don't? No friendship's perfect. That's just the way it is. It's normal to disagree with people and we've definitely disagreed over a lot of things. But we've agreed on things more than we've disagreed and you're right about that. If there's anyone that knows you, it's me. You know what I like, how I think and when I'm not acting like myself."

"No arguing there," said Gale with a knowing smile. "We're cousins, remember?"

"Yeah, cousins," said Katniss with a light chuckle. "Well, I know my cousin better than anyone."

"That you do," said Gale in agreement. After staring at her for the longest moment, he softened his voice and said with as much sincerity as he could muster, "And you're gonna be right about this. Just like I know you front to back, you know me even better and if you say I'm gonna be fine...then that's what's gonna happen. And now that I think of it, it'd be better if he were easier to hate."

"Peeta?" Of all the things Gale had said so far, this was one of the few things that left her surprised and more than a little baffled.

"Yeah," said Gale quickly. "Think about it. If he was a guy I could really hate and not think anything of, then it wouldn't be like this. If he was some rude, selfish jerk that cared only for himself and didn't care at all about the girl he was with, then I'd make sure you didn't stay with him. You wouldn't deserve to have that kind of guy in your life and when you look at Peeta, well...he's none of those things. I can't deny it because I'd be stupid if I tried to. You've told me a lot about him so far and based on what I've seen myself, he seems like a really decent guy. It doesn't take long to see that he's not like other guys at this school. I guess the word you'd use to describe him is unique. Special even. And since he treats you good, makes you laugh, smile and makes you happy just to be with him...then who I am to try and take that from you? I know you've never been one to put much focus onto guys but you deserve to have a guy that's gonna treat you good. And while I can't say this about other guys, Peeta seems like one of the better ones."

When he finished speaking, Katniss felt like her whole mouth was going dry. She'd known Gale was jealous and in battle with his own conflicting emotions but he'd actually managed to leave her speechless. To hear such words come out of his mouth didn't make sense but then it struck her that it couldn't have made any better of sense. He was directly admitting that the person he'd grown so instantly envious of was an ideal image of the kind of guy anyone would think highly of. Of course he knew Peeta Mellark was someone people would admire and respect and he was smart enough to realize that attempting to dispute that would have been futile. Why argue against what was so plainly observable?

To say that Katniss was at a loss for words was an understatement. No matter of searching her brain for the right things to say would do any good because she'd only come up empty. Either way, she had to form some kind of response so after giving a light sigh, she went ahead and did just that.

"He is a good guy," she started. "And I think that's one of the reasons why he stood out for me that first day in class. He wasn't like other guys and the more I got to know him, the more I saw he really was a unique, different kind of guy." She paused temporarily as if collecting any wandering thoughts and continued, "But you're a good guy too, Gale. I know all you want is to make me happy and I want the same for you. And I hope however this turns out and whatever happens next, nothing will change between us. I know I can't see the future and say what that'll hold but I'm sure whatever it's like...this whole thing's gonna be fine. Maybe it won't be perfect and there'll be hurdles but we'll get through them."

"I hope you're right," he said, meeting her gaze and sending her the smallest of a smile. In his voice she thought she picked up on a faint, but traceable touch of sadness. "Because that's all I want for us, Katniss. I want to let go of the anger and be happy for you and Peeta and be grateful that I'll still have the best friend I've ever known still by my side. I just hope it'll all work out for us."

"It will," she assured him, and was both glad and relieved to see how much his outburst had subsided. Gone was the intensity in his voice, the glaring in his eyes and the rigidness in his body.

Gale nodded and said appreciatively, "Thanks, Katniss. For everything I mean. I don't know what I'd do without you, really. I'd be a nervous breakdown, probably." _Awesome. Show some anger, jealousy and then let that slide off my shoulders. Sure I'm gonna be pissed for a while but just like you said Catnip, that ain't gonna last. You expected that kind of reaction from me and it's not gonna surprise you to see what I'm like in the next few weeks. Oh, I'm gonna accept what you want me to and let go of these tirades and from then on...it's smooth sailing._

"You don't have to thank me," was her quick response. "I'll always be—"

"No, I do," he interrupted. "I do. You've put up with me for a long time Katniss and it just goes to show how great of a friend you are. You could have left me years ago and chosen to go search for another friend but you didn't. You still hung out with me, did stuff with me and didn't let go of me even though I'd shout and bug you about so many things. I can't say I know a lot of people who'd stay by someone's side like that."

"You're one of the best friends I've ever had, Gale," she said earnestly. "Whatever problems we have, we work them out together. It's what we've been doing for years and nothing's gonna change that."

"And you're one of mine," he told her and a visible smile was crossing his face. "You're my pretend cousin, best friend...and a plant that all cats adore."

She raised a brow and gave him a stern look.

He gave an innocent shrug and said jokingly, "Hey, I can't help it if cats go crazy about you."

"Buttercup doesn't," she countered. "He hates that stuff."

"Really?"

"He won't go anywhere near it," was her answer. "Put it in his face and he'll just swipe at your eyes and try and land a lucky hit."

"Okay, aside from Buttercup all cats are nuts about you."

"Gee, thanks Gale," said Katniss with a sarcastic laugh. "Nice to know I'm important to cats."

"You're important to them," he said and with a distinctive gleam in his eyes, declared, "But you're even more important to me."

A silence that felt like a lifetime fell over them. It wasn't one that usually crept up on them because they'd been in a heated dispute but rather, was just the opposite. As soon as he'd finished speaking, both he and Katniss had felt an air of calmness that seemed somehow natural. For the next few minutes, neither felt any need to speak or keep their discussion going. They simply sat there with their arms stretched out on the table while running through a train of thoughts that sat in their minds.

It wasn't till Katniss met her friend's unblinking gaze that she re-entered their conversation.

"You're important to me to," she said with unquestionable certainty. "And I do love you Gale...but as a friend."

"Best friend," he corrected with one of his warm smiles. It was one of those nostalgic smiles he'd often give her when they'd sit under their giant maple tree deep in the woods, watching clouds and feeling relaxed, content and at home.

"Exactly."

"I love you too," he said quietly. "But I love you enough that I'll have to accept that you love another guy and whatever makes you happy...I have to accept it."

"There," said Katniss as if she'd been searching for some sort of answer.

"What?" he said in confusion.

"What you said right there," she explained. "And what you've been saying up till now...it's why you're my best friend. You've had my back ever since we met and years later, you've still got my back."

"Don't have to worry about that," he promised. "So long as we're best friends, I'll have your back today, tomorrow and every other day after that. That got written in stone about four years ago."

For the rest of their free, the two fell into their usual discussions where there wasn't a hint of anger exploding between them. Smiles were exchanged, jokes were enjoyed and as when they'd been younger, they laughed till they could laugh no more. Despite the fact that there was still the issue of Katniss having given her heart to Peeta on Gale's shoulders, Katniss was sensing a change in him. Was it possible that his feelings of bitterness could diminish so soon? Was there really a chance that he was stepping on a path that would point him in the direction of ultimately accepting the one thing he swore he wouldn't?

The only way she'd find out for sure was to give it time. Only a week had passed since she and Peeta had gotten together so it was still rather early to detect any improvements in his behaviour. She figured if she gave it another week or two, she'd have a better idea of how he was dealing with the relationship she and Peeta had entered. And considering what he'd just said to her, it seemed like he truly was going to try and find it in himself to accept what Katniss wanted.

When there was five minutes left of free, Gale checked his watch and told her, "That went by fast. I've got five minutes to get to History. Long, tedious boring history with Mr. Cray. Fun, fun, fun."

"It'll go by fast," said Katniss, amused by his total lack of enthusiasm to head to another lecture of Cray's. "Or maybe you'll nod off and he won't notice."

"Oh, he'll notice," said Gale, giving his arms a long stretch. "It's like he's got eyes and ears in the back of his head or something. That guy doesn't miss a thing. Your phone vibrates and he knows you're not doing your work. You look down under the table to steal a peak at your phone and he catches you. I'm telling you, the guy's got more than just two eyes in his head."

"Well, think of it this way. Once the semester's done you'll never have to step foot in another history class again. And since Cray only teaches history, you won't have him as a teacher anytime soon."

"Thank goodness," said Gale with a much relieved sigh. "Now I can't wait for January to come. Can't wait to get that finish line."

"Not there yet though," she said with a snap of her fingers as if to yank him out of his no-more-history daydreaming. "Still got a ways to go before you reach that finish line."

"I know," he said with an exaggerated yawn. "Still three months to go till then. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock."

"You'll survive," she said with a wave of her hand. She then got up out of her chair, slung her bag over her shoulder and told him, "Well, better get to my next class. See ya."

"Later, Catnip," he called, and made sure to give her a smile. "And Katniss?"

"Yeah?"

"I really am sorry for getting mad," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I know I've been a jerk over the past few weeks and I'm sorry for being like that. I didn't mean anything I said."

"It's okay," she said understandingly. "And I know you didn't mean any of it." She returned his smile and quickly made her way out of the cafeteria and up the stairs to her next class.

"Oh I know," he muttered quietly while keeping his eyes on her. But she was already gone and not hearing a word of what he was saying, but that didn't stop him from saying it anyway. "Gotta go check up on little bread boy. Make sure he's alright. You go do that. See if I care. Keep painting and laughing with him and thinking life's gonna be one happy song because in a bit of time that's all gonna go downhill. Your guy will be in hell soon enough, I'll make sure of that. You think I'm gonna accept you and him together? What fuckin' planet are you living on? Sure, I'll pretend like I do but you'll never know the truth. You must not know me as well as you think you do because I'll never accept that. Enjoy your time with him now because it ain't gonna last."

While he strolled through the halls towards Mr. Cray's room which was the last door on his left, his mind was still fervently obsessing over their latest discussion.

 _Once I get rid of the resentment and bring back the old Gale, she'll never think I'm still living in jealousy,_ he thought smugly and his attention was nowhere on preparing for another dreary hour in history. _And why should she? Like we both said ourselves, our friendship's too important to let anger tear it apart. She knows I'm gonna find it in myself to accept her love is with Peeta and as far as she knows, I can...and I will. Too bad she doesn't know I'm not settling for best friend. I'm still coming after you Catnip. You and Bread Boy just aren't gonna know it._

The next few days went by rather quickly for Peeta and Katniss. Both went to art class like they normally did but the two found themselves doing a bit more than just drawing with a pencil or painting with a brush. Their minds were now filled with images of things besides sketches, paintings and anything else art-related. When they got the chance and when the teacher wasn't strolling around the room inspecting everyone's work, the two would be seen laughing and flirting quite frequently. Peeta especially enjoyed teasing Katniss when she'd unintentionally splatter drops of paint on her fingers and she liked teasing him about how determined he was about getting in every last bit of detail in his sketches. He'd even sometimes try and stay after class for just a few extra minutes to get in that last needed shading and all Katniss could do was burst out laughing. "Is it really necessary?" she'd ask him and his predictable response was always, "Of course!"

They spent their lunch hours together and for them, it didn't matter whether they were sitting in the cafeteria, somewhere in the halls, outside the gym or outside on one of the benches – they just loved one other's company. Peeta would often bring in treats from the bakery and let Katniss decide which ones she liked best. For those few days, he brought in an abundance of sugar cookies, chocolate-and-vanilla swirled cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles, mint-flavoured brownies, strawberry-filled pastries and enough muffins to last them the semester. Her eyes would go wide at the vast, delicious-looking display of every kind of muffin she could imagine – blueberry, chocolate chip, lemon poppyseed, apple cinnamon, banana, oatmeal, pumpkin, carrot cake, cranberry, orange marmalade and a number of others.

"You're not just Mr. Artist," Katniss would tell him as her eyes would dart from one appetizing treat to the next. "You're the Muffin Man."

"Peeta Mellark, the Muffin Man," he'd say and before she'd have time to go on, she'd hear him chanting in a singsong voice, "Oh, do you know the Muffin Man, the Muffin Man, the Muffin Man, oh, do you know the Muffin Man that lives on Drury Lane?"

"First off, you don't even live on Drury Lane," Katniss would point out. "And second—"

"Come on, Katniss!" he'd chuckle light-heatedly. "Finish the song."

"No."

"Please?"

"Nope."

"What if I bring in more muffins?" He broke out in a wide grin as he said in a tempting voice, "Ones you've never had before? Muffins that'll make your mouth water, stomach grumble and—"

He wouldn't have time to carry on because he'd get interrupted by his girlfriend who as he was discovering, had an unquestionably big sweet tooth.

"Oh, yes, I know the Muffin Man, the Muffin Man, the Muffin Man, oh, yes, I know the Muffin Man, that lives on Drury Lane."

Peeta would applause, smile and declare, "That was lovely."

"Thanks," she'd reply and after swallowing another luscious chunk of a blueberry muffin, would ask him "Now are you going to bring in some more of those to-die-for muffins, Muffin Man."

"I'll get baking tonight," he'd say with a wink.

Neither of them texted much in class because they actually paid attention to what the teacher was describing, but, however...they _would_ send the occasional text. A few innocent texts here and there wouldn't hurt. If Peeta was feeling bored and distracted in biology, he'd quickly take out his phone and send her a simple: _how's class?_ Katniss would usually reply back with: _pretty boring. How about you?_ to which Peeta would text back: _same with me. Pretty boring_.

There were times in class when Gale would cross her mind and she'd wonder how he was doing. After her conversation with him in the cafeteria and how stubborn he'd initially been, she felt giving him time to cool down was indeed the best idea. They still got together on free and spent the hour chatting away but she also allowed him time to be alone and think things through. She felt it was crucial that he was given time in which he could place all his focus on diminishing his anger and working towards returning to a state of comfort and calmness. So for the rest of that week when she and Gale weren't sitting in the halls, cafeteria or outside in the grass, she hung out with four of her closest friends – Madge, Johanna, Glimmer and Clove. When she'd told the four of them that she and Peeta were now officially together, all four had their own distinct reactions.

Madge was happy at hearing the news and assured Katniss she'd probably enjoy having a boyfriend. "He seems like a decent guy, too," Madge told her. "You're lucky to have someone like that, Kat. You kept on saying how you'd never find someone or the right guy just wasn't out there for you but look at you now: lover and girlfriend of Peeta Mellark. Never thought I'd see the day when Katniss herself gave her heart to a boy."

Johanna simply laughed and whistled, "Well, it's _about_ time! I don't know Peeta that well but I know enough about him to know that he's crazy about you. No, more like head-over-heels in love with you. And it's about time you got yourself a boyfriend. Trust me, you'll _love_ the kissing and cuddling and whatever else you to decide to get into. But I'm sure you don't want to go down that road just yet."

When Katniss showed Glimmer a picture of Peeta on her phone, her friend's eyes lit up and she looked right at Katniss and exclaimed, " _That_ guy's your boyfriend? Wow, talk about a cutie. That blond hair, bright blue eyes, impressive body...man he looks yummy. Mind if we share him?"

Katniss just gave her a steely glare but Glimmer quickly assured her, "Don't worry, Kat. He's cute but I've got my sights on _way_ too many guys to worry about any one guy in particular. I'm still having a hard time choosing which one to go after. You know what I'm like. I see one guy, jump right into love and then next day I'm drooling over another. It's just the way I am but I kind of like it. I always enjoyed chasing after a bunch of guys. Gives me a sense of thrill, I guess. But congratulations to you and Peeta though! That's great."

Clove's reaction was by far the most unenthusiastic. She'd given a brief, uninterested look and then said with no emotion, "That's cool. You seem happy about it." Unlike Glimmer, she was never the sort of girl that was crazy or infatuated with guys, and didn't care much about the drama and couples and dating that came with high school. What defined her was her undying love for sports and how she pretty much kicked ass at whatever challenge was thrown at her. It didn't matter what sport either – soccer, basketball, tennis, volleyball, football, rugby or hockey – Clove was a serious force to be reckoned with when it came to sports. And above all, she played to _win. More often than not, anyone who planned to go head to head with this girl – a girl who had a limitless amount of confidence – prepared to be trampled, flattened and left grumbling in the dirt._

Peeta spent his hour of free with Delly like he frequently did and when he told her that he and Katniss were finally together, she gave a huge smile that showed just how truly happy she was for him.

"Peeta, that's awesome!" she told him, her face lit up like it was Christmas. "I'm so happy for you guys. After all these years of wondering what would happen, you're now together. Here you spent the last few weeks worrying and thinking she wouldn't want to be friends with you, but look at you two now. You must be so happy. I know this sounds kinds of cheesy since so many people say it but trust me when I say that you two are perfectfor each other."

He nodded and said with a smile, "Thanks, Dell. It's just hard to believe that it's actually _real._ I guess I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. It's like one of those times where you think you're dreaming and that you'll wake up but you don't, and then you know it's real. And I know our relationship is only a few days old, but it feels like we've been together for...longer than that, you know? It's kind of hard to explain."

"You must be loving art," said Delly. She took a brief sip of her raspberry-flavoured water before setting it down and continuing, "It must be great having Katniss in your class, especially now that you two are a couple."

"Oh, I am," he told her. "And Katniss is getting so much better with her skills. I remember the first day of school she told me she'd never get good and that she hated art but she's come a long way since then. I've helped her a lot and given her a hand in getting the hang of all the techniques, and she's really improving. She's created some pretty spectacular things. Maybe I'll show you them sometime next time you're down by the art rooms. Mr. Odair said he's thinking of putting some stuff up next week so you'll probably a bunch of them then."

"I'd like that," said Delly. She then got to her feet and told Peeta that she had to head upstairs and ask her history teacher a question about an upcoming test. There'd been a recent announcement that the test was now going to be half multiple choice and half short-answer, and she wanted some direction on what material to focus more heavily on.

Before she turned and left, she told him sincerely, "You're gonna make an amazingboyfriend Peeta. I think I remember you telling me once that Cato and Marvel said you're one of the nicest guys in this school. They're one hundred percent right and Katniss is going to love every minute spent with you."

Peeta gave her an appreciative smile and said, "I hope so."

"You're like a brother to me," Delly went on. "I know you well and since I don't have any siblings, you've always been like family to me. You've told me everything about how you feel about Katniss and one thing's for sure...I know you're gonna treat her like gold."

When she'd left, Peeta found himself thinking ahead to what their next project in art would be. So far, they'd been taught various techniques and ways to strengthen one's creativity and his excitement for what was to come was greatly increasing. In a month, he'd explored the world of sketching, painting, 'cut, paste and place', surrealism, realism and he could hardly wait to get started on their newest assignment. It was any guess as to what path their artistic teacher would take them down next but he was more than ready for anything and everything.

Little did he know it would be Mr. Odair's most unique, original idea yet.

"I think you'll enjoy what I've got planned for the next two days," he announced while flipping through one of his lengthy albums. Peeta's eyes were fixed on the giant books on his teacher's desk and without having to look, he knew Katniss's were on him. The tiniest smile was growing on her face, as she knew Peeta was simply dying to know what the next exciting adventure in art would be. "It's unlike any of the previous projects we've completed but with it being the start of a new month, I thought it would be the ideal time to introduce some...creativity. Not that we haven't been doing that already but I'm always trying to reach new heights and for today's and tomorrow's class, I'd like for us to accomplish just that."

After flipping through his book, he found what he was searching for and stared down at the pages for a brief moment. His rubbed his chin thoughtfully which instantly told his students he was both eager to get going and reorganizing any last ideas he had swimming in his imaginative mind. Closing the book, he gave his class a crooked smile and asked casually, "Who's ready to find themselves a place in nature?"

Their only reaction was to raise their brows in confusion and give each other mystified looks. Katniss shared the same puzzlement as her fellow peers but she knew right away this wouldn't be the case with Peeta. Just as she hardly felt confused in math, he rarely ever showed signs of befuddlement in art and when she observed his face, she had to keep him chuckling. Where others were shrugging shoulders, furrowing brows and wondering what Mr. Odair was hinting at, Peeta had realized before anyone else where he was going with his question. A knowing smile was showing on his face and when he turned to see how Katniss was reacting, his smile was only widening.

"I'm really looking forward to this latest assignment," said Peeta giddily. He popped the sugar cube on their table into his mouth and felt the familiar tingling of sweetness on his tongue. When he saw Katniss hadn't yet eaten hers, he nudged it towards her as if to say, "Remember these?"

Without a word, she picked up the tiny cube, ate it but just as quickly she was returning her attention to Mr. Odair's bizarre announcement.

"So you know what he's getting at then?"

"I think so, but let's hear the instructions first. I could be wrong, but something tells me we won't be inside for the next two days."

He got another strange look from Katniss but before she could ask why he thought that, she saw Mr. Odair making his way to the center of the room.

"Nature's an extraordinary part of our world," he pronounced while pointing to the window on their left. Outside they saw the familiar image of clusters of trees, grass, various types of flowers of multiple colors, a bluish sky with very few clouds and all the other environmental features that made up the planet. "And an important one too. It's for that simple reason that I've chosen to place our focus for today's class on recreating a representation of one of nature's most significant necessities. Tomorrow we'll be shifting our focus onto actually blending into nature as if we were a part of it."

"So...are we painting then?" asked one of the guys in the front.

"No, we're not painting," said Mr. Odair, staring intently out the window towards the row of trees.

"Sketching?" a girl in the back said.

"No, not sketching," he told her while still keeping his gaze on the outside world.

"Uh...so what are we doing then?" Katniss finally asked.

"Exactly what I said a minute ago," Mr. Odair replied. He opened the windows and finding its way into the room was a fresh, cool breeze that swept over the entire class. "We're finding ourselves a place in nature."

"How are we doing that?" she asked him, just as confused as she'd been when he'd originally said it.

"Easy," came the response. "We'll be going outside and getting an in-depth look at nature. It isn't enough to sit around inspecting photos and reading an artist's words. The best way for us to pull out the details that nature can offer is to go out exploring what's right outside this classroom."

"But what are we actually gonna be doing?" he heard someone ask.

"Camouflage," said Mr. Odair. "I want you to become accustomed to the practice of concealing yourselves from view because art isn't always about what you can see...but also what you can't see. Sometimes our eyes don't catch all there is to absorb and I thought it would be interesting to see how you go about blending yourself into nature. For this class, I've already got everything you'll need at the back of the room so you'll be all set to get going. The goal for the hour is to familiarize yourself with trees so what do I want you to do? Transform a part of your body into tree bark. You can use your arms, legs or even your face. The point is to bring the concept of camouflage and artistic creation together in a way that makes it truly unique. Right now, it's all about getting a feel for the art of camouflage and come tomorrow, you should be all set to venture out and vanish from my sight. So by the end of this class, I should observe some part of you that resembles the image of a tree and tomorrow...we're heading outside. Oh, two more things." With a light chuckle, he said, "First, I do want you to disappear into nature itself but don't forget that wherever you choose to hide, remember to come back. Make sure you don't let nature swallow you up and keep you for itself. Don't want the other teachers wondering why forty of our students suddenly stopped showing up to class. And second, the song I've chosen for today is Airships by VNV Nation."

With one last smile, he turned and made his way back to his desk where he began to review the works of art from the previous day. Even when he was sitting and glancing over the many illustrations, he could hear the students exchanging thoughts and ideas about this latest task. From their voices he could sense a mixture of confusion and keenness and that was followed by the sounds of chairs scraping across the floor as they got up to arrange their tables with supplies.

By the time Peeta had gathered what they'd need, he and Katniss's table was loaded with a variety of tools and materials. There were large, silver pans filled with a gooey, sticky substance that looked like a cross between paint, mud and clay, bottles that could have been mistaken for salt and pepper shakers that contained bits of sand-like fragments and several others. Katniss spotted a box of wooden brushes that were small and delicately-crafted with rough, coarse bristles. Also in the pile were tubes of paint, spoons, forks, mirrors and instruments neither she or Peeta had recalled using in previous classes.

"So," said Peeta with an air of excitement. He picked up one of the thin brushes, twirled it expertly between his fingers and asked, "Ready to look like a tree?"

"Good thing it's not our entire body," said Katniss staring down at the display of materials. "That would have taken a while to get off."

Peeta thought about that and agreed, "It probably would have. It would have been funny to walk into math though. The look on Cato and Marvel's faces seeing me like a human tree would have been classic. Then again, not so sure I'd want to see the look on Ms. Coin's face."

"Yeah, I bet Gale would have gotten a kick out of it," she added. "Madge too."

"We'll take pictures of the final result," he offered. "Then that way they'll see how great of trees we make. Well, how great of trees our arms make."

"You'll make a good tree," she said with certainty. "But not me. No way."

"Want to bet?" challenged Peeta with a playful grin.

"Sure," she answered nonchalantly. She dipped the end of her brush into the pan, gave it a light shake and told Peeta, "You're on."

Before starting, Katniss felt pretty good about their latest assignment and figured if she got through sketching, painting and everything else alright, this couldn't have been any trickier. She barely got five minutes into dabbing the brush on her arm when she realizes how much harder this was going to be. For one, it was far more challenging than sketching or painting because with those, she'd been free to use her imagination to come up with whatever images she pleased. There'd been times when she'd recreate another artist's sketch or painting but somehow this felt much different. She assumed it was because she'd never been faced with this kind of task before and as such, felt lost and unsure of most of her strokes.

Peeta's arm on the other hand, was coming along quite nicely and she found herself shifting her eyes to his impressive progress. Within thirty minutes, he'd effectively managed to transform his smooth, pale arm to one that remarkably resembled that of a tree's trunk. So far, it was an impeccably colored brown that was just the right shade and sitting so close to him, she would have sworn his arm belonged to an actual tree. His detailed work looked nothing like the common painting she'd see in a museum, or from a photograph one took on a hike in the woods. There was too much depth and meticulousness for that and it was watching him engrossed in his own efforts that she nearly forgot about her own unfinished arm.

As she quickly returned to running the brush along her arm and applying more pressure to certain areas, Peeta stopped to examine her work. His eyes went up and down her arm, observing the color, texture and overall look of what she'd done with it.

"Feeling like a tree yet?" he said with a chuckle.

She shook her head and told him, "Not yet. How can this be so much harder than what we've already done? Here I thought sketching and painting was hard but this is crazy. Look at the detail on your arm! Every little spot is just the right color, and...and it's just incredible."

"Don't worry," he assured her. "I know it feels hard now but I bet it's gonna be easier once we get outside. Then we'll get right up close with nature."

"I hope," she said, applying more of the sticky substance to her brush. "Because this is gonna drive me crazy."

"That won't happen."

"Oh, it will," she shot back, sounding certain of it. "If this keeps up and all this nitty gritty stuff gets to me, I'm gonna lose it and then I won't even make it to tomorrow's class."

"Nah."

"And what makes you say that?"

He gave her a toothy smile, wrapped an arm around her shoulder and said humorously, "You've got me! And as long as I'm here, you're not gonna be going crazy."

"Is that so?" she said, the hint of a smile creeping onto her face.

"Absolutely," said Peeta with confidence. He picked up her brush, handed it to her with much enthusiasm and reminded her, "I'm your tutor, Katniss. And as your personal tutor, I'm in no way going to let you lose it in the greatest class at Madderson High."

She took the brush, raised a brow in disagreement and said, "Art's the greatest class? I always thought it was math."

"Mmm, math's second," he said, giving her a goofy grin. "You know what math is like. Ugh."

"No, art is."

He widened his eyes in surprise, put his hands up and said quickly, "Okay, okay! Math's the greatest class in the school, then art. Got it. You win."

"Good," she smiled contently, and carried on with coating her arm in the clay-like paint.

Peeta watched her momentarily and then with yet another amused grin, whispered, "Art's still the best. It's the best of the best and it's your favourite class in the world."

She met his gaze and shot back without hesitating, "Nope."

"Yes."

"Math," said Katniss more firmly.

"Math?" asked Peeta. He grumbled in amusement and exclaimed with a shudder, "Ugh!"

"You know it," she said, her eyes trailing intently up and down her half-finished arm.

"Might want to rethink that."

"Why?"

"Because that doesn't sound right."

"It is."

For a split second, Peeta was silent and then she heard him utter decisively, "Art."

"Math's the best," she declared. "Algebra, equations, graphing, word problems, geometry, probability and—"

"Ugh!" groused Peeta, letting another shudder escape from his body. By the expression on his face, it was like he'd swallowed something unbearably nasty that left a putrid, rancid taste in his mouth.

"Give up yet?" she said while suppressing a laugh.

With a sigh, he shrugged and said, "You win."

"Do you mean that or are you just saying that and really planning to keep it going?" she said and couldn't hold back the slightest laugh.

"No, I'm done," he said reassuringly. "Math's the best class in the school. There. No more quarrelling. Ready to keep going?"

"As long as you keep me from going crazy then sure."

Peeta gave her a friendly poke, chuckled under his breath at her remark and the two carried on with transforming their arms into a work of art.

For the remainder of class, they worked harder than ever at completing what they'd begun about half an hour ago. For Peeta, he examined his carefully painted arm as thoroughly as if he was searching for a needle in a haystack. It helped that Mr. Odair had provided the class with close-up images of various tree trunks, so they could follow along and ensure they were on the right track. Katniss was relieved to have been given something to go by because if not for that, she would have been hopelessly stumped the minute she entered the room. She doubted Peeta would have felt the same and observing him in the final stages of his work, she saw her assumption was right. He'd gotten so comfortable with the feel of what he was doing that he rarely had to glimpse at the picture in front of him. He was now at the point where his eyes would shift from his arm, to his brush and then to the pans of the clay-like matter and it went on like this repeatedly. In contrast, Katniss could never see herself creating such a striking work of art without relying on some kind of picture to guide her along and keep her on track. Where the art-loving boy next to her could whip up a masterpiece using only his hands and creative mindset, she wasn't quite at that stage yet and figured she still had a long way to go.

When there was a few minutes left and students were clearing tables and tidying up, Peeta held out his arm and gave it a long, satisfied stare.

"What do you think?" he asked Katniss, lifting his arm up to her face. "Look like a tree?"

"I'd say so," was her answer. She raised hers and the two inspected their completed works and indeed it appeared as if their arms had magically changed into the trunks of trees.

"Yours looks great," Peeta complimented. He gave her a proud smile, a high-five and said, "And you pretty much did that all by yourself. I only pitched in once or twice but other than that, you were on your own."

"It's alright," she said modestly. "But I still need you lending me a hand so I hope you don't mind tutoring me for a while longer."

"I'll tutor you forever if you'd like," he said with a charismatic smile.

Feeling a sudden warmth rush into her cheeks, she chuckled lightly and said, "I'd be okay with that. There's just one problem."

"What's that?"

"We're not gonna be in this class forever."

Peeta laughed in amusement and said, "True...guess my tutoring will have to end at some point. Have to say I don't mind the fact that you tutoring me in math will come to an end though. Actually, that can't come soon enough. The sooner the better. Not that I don't love you helping me because I do. I love spending any bit of time with you but this is different. Just the thought of suffering through math for a gruelling, painful forever is just..." he shook his head, frowned and blurted his usual, "Ugh!"

"Good thing it's not forever then," she said while rinsing her brush off. "Because you'd end up drooling in a corner with piles of homework in your lap."

"Why do I have the feeling that's exactly what would happen?" he asked and felt a fit of unstoppable laughter swiftly approaching. He covered his mouth in the hopes of preventing himself from bursting out laughing entirely, but his efforts were futile. He knew he was losing this struggle to keep calm and serious so he removed his hand and let loose all the giggles.

Katniss turned to face him and asked, surprised, "You okay?"

"Yes," said Peeta, letting another boisterous laugh escape him.

"Why is it you're always laughing in this class?" she said, amazed by how many times Peeta had fallen into a round of laughter in this one particular class. "You're not like this in math, biology and not on free. Why?"

"You already know the answer to that."

She was about to question what he meant by that when he pointed directly at her and stated simply, "You're not in any of my other classes. The only class we share together is art and aside from lunch, it's the only time I get the pleasure of having a laugh attack over something you said."

"Well, you have some pretty intense laugh attacks," she commented. "One of these days you're gonna fall out of your chair and hurt yourself."

"Catch me?" he chuckled jokily.

"Catch you?" she said as if the idea was both surprising and insane. "Me catch you? If I weighed as much as you, then sure, but no way would I be keeping you from going down. If that chair goes down, odds are you're going down with it."

"Ouch," said Peeta. He shot a nervous look to the floor, pushed his chair in slightly and said decisively, "I better make sure I stay sitting in this seat then because that wouldn't be good."

When Friday came rolling around, it was time to take what they'd practiced in class and apply it to the outside world known as nature. Most students were feeling pretty confident in their ability to do as Mr. Odair had requested of them which was to 'blend in' and 'find themselves a place in nature'. Having spent close to an hour painting their arms and familiarizing themselves with the various brushes, tools and substances, it was time to take their newly developed skills to the next level. While half the students would venture off into the woods, pick their spot and begin camouflaging their bodies into it, it was up to the others to ultimately find them. As their teacher had put it, it would resemble a kind of 'hide-and-go-seek' game where one group would hide and the rest would seek.

For Katniss, it was a no-brainer who'd be the hider and who'd be the seeker. She didn't even have to think twice about it, it was that clear-cut and dry.

"All set?" she asked Peeta.

They were standing at the edge of the woods and alongside them were their fellow students. The majority were still deciding who'd be doing what but there were a few who were already disappearing into the dense thickets.

"Ready to go," was the excited answer. "You sure you don't want to give it a try?"

"No way," she said quickly. "I might be getting better with art but if there's one person who's suited for this sort of job, it's you."

"You think?"

"Yes," she stated simply.

"Alright then," he said with a smile. "Good luck, Seeker. I'll be sure to hide real good so you'll never find me. This'll be the hardest game of hide-and-go-seek you've ever played. How's that sound?"

"I'm gonna find you," she said with palpable confidence. "I was a champ at that game growing up. None of my friends could ever find me and I could always find them. They said there wasn't a person they knew who could hide and not have me find them. When I seek...I'll always find. They didn't call me champ for nothing."

"A champ, huh?" Peeta furrowed his brows in contemplation and murmured as if speaking to himself, "This'll be tricky."

"Good luck hiding," said Katniss giving him the tiniest wink.

Peeta winked in return, picked up his box of supplies and replied, "Good luck seeking, champ. I'll be waiting." Purely for a joke, he then threw in, "I'd like to say you'd where to find me but...you won't know where to find me!"

"Don't worry," she assured him. "You won't have to wait long."

"You sure?" He was making his way into the woods and though he had his back to her, Katniss could tell he was suppressing a laugh. When she gave a loud whistle, he whipped his head around and gave her a look as if to say, 'What was that for'?

"I'm positive," she shot back with poise. "You'll be hiding for maybe five minutes, but no longer than that. It never takes me long to find people and you're no different. And since I've got a watch, I'll time myself and I'll show you just how good at the game I am."

He gave her a wave and called back, "I'll try to be quick!" She had no doubt he would be what with how improved his skills had become in a little over a month. If there was one student in the entire class who'd have themselves completely camouflaged in no time it all, it'd be Peeta. By the way his peers spoke to him and looked over his work with widened eyes and opened mouths, she reckoned they'd agree with her.

As she sat around the edge of the woods waiting, she wondered how far along he was already. Was he just finding the ideal location to conceal himself into? Was he envisioning in his head what the final product should look like before beginning? She had no way of knowing but whatever he was doing, she knew she wouldn't be sitting on that patch of grass for long. Every few minutes she'd glance up and check to see if Mr. Odair was appearing to inform them it was time to start searching for their camouflaged partner. Twenty minutes had passed and since he hadn't yet emerged from the woods, that meant he was still in the process of determining who was finished and who needed some extra time.

Only another five minutes went by and then she saw a familiar figure strolling out of the woods. He had his hands on his hips and even as far away as he was, she could see there was a huge smile on his face. Without having stepped foot in the woods, she felt certain he'd burst out laughing at the sight of his students so cleverly disguised amongst all the trees, bushes, plants and rocks. She wished she'd been able to join him and watch the impressive process of transforming oneself into an unusual, yet striking feature of nature. She would have loved to observe Peeta painting and coating his body in the thick, gluey substance they'd used in yesterday's class. That would have defeated the purpose of that particular hour though. Her task was now to enter the woods and explore every inch of it in the hopes of stumbling upon her now fully and expertly camouflaged boyfriend.

"Now it's your turn!" he told everyone and gestured behind him. "Your partners have done their part and are hiding somewhere in these woods but their job is complete. It's now up to you to head on in there and seek them out. I should let you know they've done a pretty outstanding job at disguising themselves and I couldn't be happier with their efforts. That being said, it might take a bit of time to actually find them. My only advice is to keep your eyes open and don't be afraid to check places twice because they might be closer than you think."

With that, the group of students got up and made their way into the woods to begin their part of the assignment. Katniss was all too quick to join them and in a matter of seconds she was at the front of the line and moving in long, purposeful strides. Just as Mr. Odair had suggested, she had her eyes open and was carefully inspecting every part of her surroundings. In the first few minutes of her hunt, she examined the trunks of trees, the grass beneath her feet, the sodden dirt and piles of mud, multiple rock formations and any shrugs he might have buried himself in. Disappointingly, she came up empty and was starting to think maybe this version hide-and-go-seek wouldn't be so easy after all.

"Guess my five minutes are up," she said with a shrug. Even when she'd did a one eighty turn and given the woods a long, hard look, she was still met with the same discouraging sight. She'd been hoping to get a glimpse of the familiar blue eyes, strands of blond hair or burgundy-coloured sweater he was wearing but all she was met with was trees, trees and more trees.

"Where are you?" she whispered curiously. No surprise, she received no answer to her question and after giving the trees and bushes around her one final inspection, she kept moving.

As she continued her trek, she passed an endless number of trees – pine, spruce, aspen, elm and oak – but still there was no Peeta. Whatever shrub she noticed, she rushed right over to it, planted her head right in front of it but all she saw were leaves and branches. It got to the point where she had to check, double-check and even triple-check to ensure she hadn't missed him. The way she saw it, there was every possibility she'd overlooked a particular tree, bush or pathway and by giving it another look, her search would be over. It was discouraging and she was soon ignoring the watch on her arm because it didn't matter what time it was. It was now obvious that finding Peeta was going to be a far more difficult, lengthy process than she'd originally anticipated.

After another ten minutes, she felt as if she'd been trailing along for an entire day. She'd searched and searched till her eyes were spinning in circles but she'd failed to find her incredibly talented partner. The most frustrating part was knowing he was likely somewhere close by and chuckling in silence at watching her trudging through the woods with no idea of where he could be hiding. Knowing Peeta, this was exactly what he was probably doing – fighting to not break down laughing and giving away his undiscovered location. Based on how he acted in class, then he must have been dangerously close to letting his laughter break free.

"Okay, Peeta!" she called out loudly. She was now sitting on a large, moss-covered log and running her hands across the soft, spongy surface. "You win! Wanna come out now and head back for lunch? I think I've spent long enough trying to find a needle in a haystack! And just so you know, that's a compliment. You've pretty much turned yourself into a needle and now I can't even find you. How about that? You and I haven't even been together for a month and I've already lost you."

She expected to hear him shout back in response, but he didn't. What she heard was the same stillness and silence that had been lingering in the woods for the past thirty minutes. There was no, "Got it" or "I told you I'd be hiding really good!" or "Here I am!" or even a goofy reply like, "You haven't lost me! You just can't find me!"

She shook her head and yelled out with an amused tone, "I know what you're doing by the way! You've got the best hiding spot and don't want to come out. You want to watch me go searching for hours till I'm tired, cranky and so beat that I can't find the way out of here. Well, that's not gonna happen. You're somewhere around here and I'm gonna find you."

Like before, she got no reply.

"I just wish I knew where you were hiding!" she went on, still rubbing her fingers between the squishy material that coated the fallen log. She wouldn't have minded sitting there for a while longer if she had something to drink and a lunch of some kind. "I bet it's in the last place I'd expect. But like I said, I'm a champ when it comes to hide-and-go-seek and whether you like it or not, you're gonna be found and I don't care if it takes me another—"

That was when she felt a hand grabbing firmly onto her ankle and a...

"HI KATNISS!"

The second she heard this, her eyes shot wide open, her body shuddered in surprise and out of her mouth came a loud, startled, "Ahhhh!" She'd been so shocked by this sudden voice that her initial impulse was to rise to her feet and determine where it had come from, but that wasn't what happened. A moment later she felt herself tripping over a slippery patch and next thing she knew, she was on her back and staring up at dozens of trees. The air got knocked out of her lungs momentarily and as she was standing back up, she heard that same voice cut through the silence.

Only this time it was chuckling.

"Peeta?" she shouted, the shock written all over her face.

"Hi Katniss!" he repeated.

"You scared the crap out of me!"

"Sorry," he told her, though it sounded like he found the whole event exceedingly funny.

"Where are you?" was all she could ask.

"Sit back down on the log," he instructed through one of his recognizable giggles.

She did as he asked and then said, "Now what?"

"Lean over and look down!" he brightly exclaimed. "I've got a surprise for you!"

When she did this, she was so stunned at what she was staring at that she couldn't hold back a light gasp. It wasn't that she was startled like she'd been when he'd shouted when she'd least expected it – it was just the opposite. She was flabbergasted at the incredible, mind-boggling work that Peeta had been working on since he'd first found this spot. He was so amazingly disguised that if she hadn't been staring as intently as she was, she would have believed he was somewhere else and as a result, would have gone off to carry on with her exploration.

"H-how did you—" but she was too dumbfounded to even speak. None of his paintings, sketches or creations back in the classroom – though all remarkably crafted works of art – could compare to this. What he had accomplished out here in the woods was hands down one of the most notable, and undeniably comical displays he'd ever constructed.

It was a masterpiece within the very heart of nature.

"I told you I was gonna hide really well!" he explained with a toothy smile. "So what do you think? Would you say this look suits me?"

Katniss shook her head in amusement and answered, "If you like your face looking like a rock, then yes."

Even when she'd been sitting on the log staring around at the scenery the woods had to offer, she wouldn't have guessed he'd been so close to her. Behind the log just beneath her she would have found him lying there quietly while not moving a muscle. From the neck down, he'd skilfully covered himself with moss, grass and rocks of various sizes. By doing so, he'd placed himself in such an obscured disguise that pointing out his body just wouldn't have been possible – not with how well he'd hidden it. As for his face, he'd spent most of his time mixing his pants and other substances till he'd achieved the desired color and texture. With thorough precision, he'd then applied this slowly and delicately to his face and just as he'd hoped, the final product was just as he'd imagined it would be. After all the persistent focus, he'd successfully accomplished his task of changing his face into that of a rock. The greyish color and stony, bumpy texture was practically an identical replication of those in the woods, except for the fact that it was only a representation.

"It's pretty cozy down here, actually," Peeta remarked. He gave a long yawn and went on, "Might just stay here for a nap."

"Did you forget what Mr. Odair said to us yesterday?"

"No, I remember. I'm just so comfortable down here in all this moss and grass and stuff. It's like a bed. Not as good as mine back home but not a bad spot for a snooze."

"He said not to lose yourself in nature," she reminded him sternly while putting her hands on her hips. With the hint of a smile, she added, "And you'll be lost forever if you don't get yourself up and I'm not gonna come to your rescue. So if you'd like to stay here and live your life as a rock, be my guest but just know that I'm not gonna be—"

"I better get up then!" he stated in a hurry.

As quickly as he could, he brushed off the layers of moss and grass he'd covered himself in and wiped off all the bits of dirt. His sweater, of course, was now a visible mess that combined dirt, mud and soil but that wasn't a problem. He'd made sure to bring an extra sweater to school, knowing the one he left home in was going to end up grimy and dirty come late that morning.

"I still can't believe how real that looks," said Katniss who was unable to take her eyes off his 'rocky' face.

"Yeah, I really put the rock in rocky, didn't I?" he said with a goofy grin.

"That you did." She gave him a thumbs-up and congratulated him by saying, "I've never seen a guy turn into a rock quite like you. Actually, I've never seen a guy turn himself into a rock so you pretty much win the title for Best Rock Portrayal."

"Thank you," he said. Before saying anything else, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a large cloth and began wiping his face clean of the homemade paint. As he did so, he caught Katniss watching him and with an imperceptible shrug, said, "Don't want to go walking into math with a face like this. I'll give Coin a heart attack and then have to spend my lunch in detention."

"She'd do that too," said Katniss. "Knowing what she's like, she'd punish you just for having scared her out of her chair."

Peeta nodded and said with a smile and a sigh, "It was nice being a rock while it lasted. Who knows? Maybe I'll come back someday and try something else. Better yet, maybe I'll bring you with me and find you a place in nature!"

Katniss took a step away from him and said with just as big a smile, "Uh, thanks for that offer Peeta but you'll probably be taking that trip solo."

"Aww, come on," he cajoled, waving the cloth just a few inches from her face. "I'm sure you'd make a terrific rock. I'd even name you Rockniss Everdeen."

Katniss took his dirt-stained cloth, gave it a quick look and then dropped it directly on his feet. She then crossed her arms and said in with false disapproval, "Rockness Everdeen?"

"Sure," he said casually. "And you'd have lots of nicknames. Rockniss the Rocktastic. Rockniss the Rockiest of all Rocks. Rockniss the Rocknificent. Rockniss the Rockmazing."

Katniss paused for a moment and unable to keep from laughing, burst out into full on laughter. "So I'd be that good of a rock, would I?"

"The best," was Peeta's immediate answer.


	23. Chapter 23

**CHAPTER 23**

 **OCTOBER**

In all, the week went by much quicker than either Peeta or Katniss had expected. Each day seemed to pass by in a speeding blur.

When Saturday finally rolled around, all Peeta could do was sit quietly in the living room while waiting for his parents and two brothers to leave the house. It was relieving to know he and his new girlfriend were going to have the house to themselves because it would have been uncomfortably awkward with his family hanging around. His father wasn't the one he'd be worried about because he had no problems at all with Katniss Everdeen. Whenever she stopped by the bakery to buy some freshly-baked goods, he made sure to always smile, wave and speak with her kindly and politely. Like with his father, he wouldn't have been too concerned about Luchi because the guy basically kept to himself and didn't say much. If he would have bumped into her, the most she might have heard from him was a simple, casual, "Hi. So you're Peeta's girlfriend?" Anything more than that would have been uncommon for him. The two people he'd be anxious about approaching Katniss were his mother and Rye. He feared the wicked, appalling words that would have flown out of her mouth at seeing the girl her love-stricken son so admired standing even a foot in her home. He'd be equally nervous of his unpredictable brother and the offensive slurs and remarks he'd shove into her face.

To say he was grateful that he and Katniss could study in peace with no sudden distractions or nasty commotions was an understatement. If not for the fact that his family wouldn't be there till much later that night, they likely wouldn't have found the time to squeeze in some studying. They could have easily spent the day at Katniss's house and she probably wouldn't have minded, but he was thrilled to be able to give her an in-depth look at the inside of their bakery. Though she'd taken many trips to the Mellark Bakery, she'd never gotten a tour of what lay beyond the front desk where payments were made and he could hardly wait to show her.

His mother and father were heading out for the day to do some errands and pick up some things for the bakery – materials, ingredients and some new pans, bowls and pots for the kitchen – which his mother claimed they seriously needed. She made a point of mentioning, "We're always running out of stuff. Last thing we need is to have all out stuff get used up and then what'll we have? Nothing!" Her husband knew a trip out to the store wasn't entirely necessary but as it never hurt to stock up on supplies, he didn't bother protest.

Rye had a planned date and Peeta could only imagine what kind of girl would go out with an obnoxious weasel like him. He was actually hoping for the girl's sake that the date went horrible and that she insisted to never see him again. It wasn't that he wanted her to have an unpleasant time, but he figured Rye wasn't the nicest, patient or most polite kind of guy and that he shouldn't be dating unless he treated his lady right. Where Peeta never would have yelled, judged or harassed Katniss in any sort of way, he couldn't say the same about his older brother. He had a grim feeling whoever his unlucky date was, she was bound to be in for a night where she'd be constantly yelled at, demeaned, and pestered hysterically. It was a shame if this was indeed going to be the case and how Rye had managed to attract a girl's attention at all was beyond his comprehension. It just wasn't worth putting much thought into so he didn't spend a whole lot of time pondering about it.

Luchi was heading off to the movies with a group of friends and didn't intend on coming home till much later that evening. Since he had the following day off from work, he planned on taking advantage of any bit of time he had to get out of the house. Just as it would have shocked him to hear Luchi engage in a full, normal conversation with himself or Katniss, it would have stunned him if the guy arrived home even at midnight. He was sure his oldest brother wouldn't be home at what he considered early but rather, would go on doing whatever he did with his friends in the dead of night.

 _The whole afternoon to ourselves_ , thought Peeta, resting his head against one of the pillows. _My mother won't be able to scold and yell at me for spending all this time worrying about a girl_ _and best of all, no Rye to step in and try and be the biggest annoyance possible. Should be a great time! We'll have some cake and study some math...ugh. I wonder if I'll ever stop saying ugh?_

As he sat there waiting and occasionally glancing out the glass paned windows, he noticed Rye hurrying down the hall. 'Hurrying' was the perfect word because even from the couch he could hear clear as day the heavy thump-thump-thump-thump of his brother's feet stomping on the floor. What with how much of a rush he was in just to make it out of his room, Peeta figured the guy was craving his usual plate of irresistible chocolate brownies. It would have made sense for him to keep speeding by towards the stairs but downstairs wasn't where he was heading. That was because when he reached the living room entrance, he caught sight of Peeta and stopped to send him an ugly, scornful sneer.

"Hey, dork," he spat in his familiar superior tone. "Got myself a date tonight. And not one of those lame things people call a date. A real one, though I don't expect you to know anything about that. Not like you've ever been on a real date. It's gonna be a wicked time. Sure I just met her yesterday but what can I say? She couldn't resist my charm and good looks. But poor Peeta has to stay home all by himself like the loser he is. Gotta keep a watch on the house for Dad while the rest of us go out and have some fun." He threw in this last part with a cackle that would have driven anyone mad. The guy spoke too loudly and never in a composed, quiet tone like most people did. But as Peeta knew too well, Rye wasn't anything like ordinary folks.

Little did Rye know that Peeta had a date himself, but he was too caught up in his own life that he couldn't care one way or the other what his brother was doing. All he cared about was getting in whatever digs and jabs he could at Peeta, no matter how untrue or ridiculous they might have sounded.

"Have fun guarding the house, you loner," he sniggered and gave him an arrogant up-and-down look as if he were a pile of rotting trash. "Make sure no one breaks in. Don't want some hungry thief to come steal our beloved stuff. Oh, and do me a favour. Guard those brownies back there with your life or I'll personally kill you." He then sniffed and went on cockily, "Poor, stupid Peeta doesn't get to go do anything. Can't even get himself a date or god knows what else. You poor, hopeless creature. How do you live with yourself?"

Peeta kept calm, ignored his brother's pointless rambling and told him bluntly, "I actually have to thank you, Rye. I wouldn't have thought I'd ever end up saying that but now that I think about it, I really have to thank you."

Rye raised a brow in bewilderment, blinked and laughed, "Uhh...for _what_?"

"Remember a few days ago at lunch when you told Katniss how long I've loved her for?"

"Uh, yeah!" he snorted, and immediately burst out laughing. "And I remember how fuckin' _stupid_ you looked! Priceless, man, that look on your face! Oh no! She's not gonna talk to me again! She's gonna think I'm a creep and oh no! My dreams are all ruined! Doesn't get any better than that. Best lunch hour ever! Wish I could have taken a picture so I can always remember how stupid you looked. I'd show the whole goddam school and make a fool out of you all over again!"

"Well, I thought you ruined whatever chance I had with Katniss," Peeta went on. A small smile then crossed his face as he explained, "The thing is though...you didn't. I thought you would, but you didn't. We're together now. She told me she feels the same way about me so in a way Rye, your plan kind of backfired. You _did_ manage to humiliate me, but you _didn't_ succeed in keeping her from me. I won't lie. You definitely got me scared and made me think any chance I had with her went down the drain, but you did just the opposite. You helped bring us together. Who knows? Maybe I would have been too nervous to tell her myself and we would have just gone on being friends or maybe she wouldn't have told me how she felt. All I know is thanks to you, she found out how I felt about her and from there...things just got better for us."

Rye stared at Peeta with absolutely no expression. His face remained like this for a solid minute but then an annoyed look crossed his face and Peeta could tell by reading his brother's change in behaviour that he was out and out pissed that his plan had failed. Both his hands were clenched into fists that implied he wanted to lash out and hurt him, his lips had taken on a thin, tight appearance and his eyes were flaming and vexed. If looks could kill, Peeta would have been a goner right then and there with how extremely irked his brother had become. He'd set out to make a fool out of his younger brother, leave him sputtering in the dirt with a sense of defeat hanging over his head all while scaring Katniss away from him, but he hadn't. For a short time, he'd succeeded in having her leave Peeta but he wouldn't have guessed how it would all end.

"You think you're so _fuckin'_ clever, don't you?" snarled Rye, taking a few threatening steps towards Peeta, who stayed calm and relaxed. This alone was maddening to him because knowing that his little brother wasn't afraid of him made him feel incapable of presenting himself as superior to this guy sitting on the couch. "Oh, look at me! I'm such a freakin' genius and I'm so much smarter than my dumb old brother who couldn't keep us apart!"

Peeta had every reason to fear Rye losing his cool, letting his nerves fly through the roof and trying to land a punch to his face. It wasn't so much that he wasn't nervous about getting knocked into next week because getting a fist to the face was always something to be concerned about, but there was more to it. The physical abuse Rye might have attempted to inflict upon him didn't frighten him as much as something else did. For so long he'd gotten jumped on by his brother and it was so common now that it didn't exactly scare him anymore; it had turned into a daily routine. The first few times he'd been grabbed and slammed into the wall, he'd definitely worried about what condition he'd be left in, but that was years ago. As time went on, he grew less afraid of the physical beating he'd receive from Rye. What had replaced it instead was an immense...longing. Gone was the wondering as to when the next hit would come and where it'd be hammering him. That had been switched with an unmistakable yearning that had crept into him and refused to wink out of existence. For too long he'd longed for their fighting and not-getting-along to end and leave them for good but the odds of that happening felt so ridiculously slim.

As much as it hurt, believing things could actually change for the better felt virtually implausible.

"My brother Peeta's smarter than anyone else," hollered Rye and by this point he was shouting more to hear himself talk than to argue with Peeta. Both his brothers and parents knew too well that Rye was a guy that talked to himself repeatedly in times when he was wound up and needed to shake off any pent up energy. "So much smarter than anyone. He can do anything! Anything in the world my flawless, too-good-for-anyone-else brother can do! You name it, he can do it! Think you're so clever don't you, Mellark? Think so highly of yourself, don't ya?"

"No," said Peeta coolly.

"Liar," teased Rye, giving him a conceited smirk. "You think you're so above everyone else. Too smart for everyone else. How does it feel knowing how perfectly clever you are? I bet you fuckin' love it and can't get enough of your stupid ego."

Peeta sighed lightly and replied calmly, "That's what you think, Rye. Not me. When have I ever said I'm better than anyone? When has there ever been a time when I claimed to be smarter than someone else?"

Rye laughed under his breath and even went so far as to roll his eyes.

"You're the one that acts like you're better than everyone else," his brother reminded him. "I don't think I'm better than anyone, because I'm not. No one's perfect. But you're always saying how much cooler, better looking and smarter you are than everyone. You're like that almost all the time, saying how nobody's as great as you are and that you're better than—"

"Because I am!" boasted Rye haughtily. He gave an arrogant snort and went on, "All those freaks at Madderson High ain't got nothin' on me! You said it bro. I'm smarter, better looking, better liked and better in every way. I'm better at it all. All those other people wish they were me but they'll never be the person I am. As for you, well...you're just as much of a loser as everyone else. You're right at the bottom with them but a guy as awesome as me sits right up on top."

Peeta watched his brother only for a moment before telling him, "I know you say all this to make me feel bad but it doesn't bother me, Rye And you might think you made a fool of me when you told Katniss how I felt about her but that's in the past now. All the embarrassment I felt after you went and said all that is gone now. She and I are together now, and what you did that day doesn't matter anymore."

Rye gave Peeta an irritated glare and snickered, "Whatever. It was fun while it lasted. Still the best hour of lunch I've ever had. And you and that chick won't last long anyway. It'll be fun to see the day you come home sobbing your poor, broken little heart out because she's threw with you and off with another man. I'll _definitely_ be there to witness _that_! Some brownies, a front row seat and I'll be all set to watch the waterworks!"

"Actually, we're really happy together," his brother pointed out. "I'm having more fun with her than I've had in years. I can't remember a time when I laughed so much and even though I'm too fond of math, it's so much better with her helping me."

"Whatever!" growled Rye and could feel himself getting fired up to keep their argument going. "Like I said, you and that chick aren't gonna last and when you come home with your heart ripped in two, guess who's gonna be there to wipe up your tears? Guess who's gonna be there to laughing his brains out because you're standing there like a fuckin' moron with your head in your hands!" He paused briefly and then jeered in a smug voice, "Me and my date are gonna have a wicked night. You and your worthless ass get to stay home and do nothing while I get to go out and stir up some fun. Who knows what'll happen?"

"Rye," Peeta interrupted.

"What?" snarled his brother while clenching his teeth.

"Whatever you do, just treat this girl nicely, okay?" said Peeta sternly. "Don't go treating her bad or doing anything she'd not comfortable with or...or anything else, got it?"

"And who are you to tell me what I can and can't do?"

"Rye, I'm serious! I know I don't know this girl but no one deserves to be treated poorly so if that's what you had in mind, then you'd better reconsider—"

"Oh, put a lid on it!" groused Rye. "See? There you go again thinking you're way above my and that you know everything! Maybe you think I wanna go treating people bad but what if you're wrong, bud? Ever think of that? Ever think that just maybe your superior brother is gonna give this girl an amazing time? I'm that great of a guy, you know. She'll think I'm the most charming, irresistible guy she's ever seen and why not? It's true."

"Just be good to her, okay? Don't go saying anything nasty or hitting her or...just don't be a jerk."

"I never planned on being a jerk, in case you were wondering," Rye shot back. "I intend on giving this girl a night to remember and thank fuckin' god you have to stay home and watch over the house because you're an embarrassment to nature. The last guy in the world I'd wanna be seen with is you. I'd rather have darts in the eyes than be seen in public with you."

"And what's your idea of a night to remember?" asked Peeta suspiciously.

"None of your business," spat Rye. "What I do on my date is for me to know and for you not to know. Quit being so nosy."

"You better not try and...and—"

"What?" Rye exclaimed. "Try and not what, Peeta? What do you not want me to do?"

"Pressure her into stuff."

"Define stuff."

"You know what I mean, Rye," said Peeta firmly.

"Let's pretend I don't. What's this 'stuff' you talk about?"

Peeta sighed and said frankly, "Sex, alright?"

"Sex?" gasped Rye and let out an amused chuckle. "Ahhhh, sex, sex, sex. The big three letter word that gets so much commotion going. Sure gets people talking. Now I get it. You think I wanna go out for that kind of fun? Like a one-night-stand sort of deal? Get in some fun and then toss her aside to go do the same thing all over again with some other girl? Is that what you're so worried about? Think your big brother's gonna go out and do the deed?"

"Don't," snapped Peeta with dead seriousness.

"Jeez, what's gotten into you?" taunted Rye, running his hand through his mop of thick, blond hair. "You scared I'm gonna try and—"

"If that's what your plan is, don't," said Peeta with an unwavering glare. "I might not be able to control what you do but going and doing that would just be...just don't do it, Rye. The last thing you need is to go and get this girl pregnant and then you'd have so many problems on your shoulders, and you don't need that. You're seventeen, Rye. Don't you think that's a little young to be doing that kind of stuff?"

His older brother shrugged and in a bored voice, answered, "I don't know. And who the hell gave you the right to tell me what I should and shouldn't be doing anyway? It's my life in case you've forgotten!"

"Can you just please go and have a normal date? No name-calling, hitting, teasing, mocking or sex? Just...just don't do anything that'll make her feel uncomfortable. People don't deserve to be pressed into stuff they don't want to do. Just be smart and...and not do something you'll regret. It's not just about her either. It's about you. Do you really want to go out and then come home knowing you got her pregnant? Is that really what you want, Rye? You want to have to deal with what she and her parents would think? Like I said, I don't know this girl and her family but I doubt they'd be happy to hear their teenage daughter got pregnant by a guy she's only known for a single day!"

"I intend on having this girl fall for the best guy in town," replied Rye smugly and gave him one of his and-you-can't-do-a-thing-about-it looks. "We're gonna have a great time, she's gonna see how awesome of a guy I am and you're gonna be stuck home staring at the wall and going mad. Oh, and do me a favour, Peeta?" He sauntered up to him, stuck his nose right in his little brother's face and hissed cynically, "Mind your own fuckin' business!"

"Fine," said Peeta, putting his hands up in surrender. "Fine, if that's what you're gonna do, I can't stop you. I just hope you'll treat her good and not treat her the way you treat me."

"Oh put a lid on it," grumbled Rye. "And while you're at it, learn to listen because didn't I just tell you to mind your own fuckin' business?" With an unnecessarily loud sigh, he stomped off and muttered under his breath, "I'm gettin' some brownies." As if he hadn't a second to lose, he bolted down the stairs and marched right up to the counter where a plate of particularly thick, chewy brownies was waiting for him.

All Peeta could do as he heard him dashing down the steps was sigh in relief. If he could just manage to keep him, Luchi and his mother out of the kitchen for the next little while, everything would work out and there'd be no issues. He hadn't told anyone, but he was intending on being in there for at least the next thirty minutes, as he had some work that needed to be done before his girlfriend's arrival.

It was half an hour later when his parents and brother were mercifully heading out the door. Luchi had been picked up by one of his friends an ago so his night out had already begun. His father and mother would be taking their van out into town and Rye's date had requested to meet somewhere near Madderson High. Peeta hoped for the girl's sake that his brother would behave in a civilized manner and take them someplace decent to eat like the Hob or some other well-known eatery. What he feared was that his vulgar, egotistical brother would turn their date into a total disaster by cursing left right and center and demanding she do things she'd rather not. Knowing how unpredictable of a weasel Rye Mellark was, he dreaded to think what could and potentially might be the worst he'd do for this unfortunate girl.

A quick glance showed that Rye had indeed wolfed down some squares and had probably eaten an entire pan. His lips were smeared with chocolate but when he caught his little brother staring at him, he wiped them clean and gave him the finger. As Rye expected, he got no response from Peeta but he could have cared less because his mind was now on getting out of the house and meeting up with his date. To his relief, he saw the guy shoving a handful of money into his pockets so at least he intended on having some dinner, going to a movie or providing them with a typical date. Why else would he have bothered to bring some cash?

Whatever the case, he was all too happy to hear his older brother's footsteps leaving the house and soon enough, he had the entire house to himself. The faint sound of his father's van was heard rumbling to life and the next thing he knew, it was pulling out of the driveway. Along with that, he made out the figure of Rye strutting down the street and it wouldn't be long till he vanished out of sight.

When he glanced up at the clock, he saw it was twenty after one. Katniss had told him she'd be there by one thirty so it wasn't much longer of a wait till she'd show up. Their original plan was to meet at one but then he'd gotten a recent text from her stating that Prim was struggling with one of her latest reading logs. She'd asked him if he minded meeting a bit later so she could lend her a hand and of course he didn't mind. They had more than enough time to get done as much studying as they wished and thankfully, would have time leftover to enjoy some sweets.

Ten minutes later, he heard the doorbell ring. He got up and quickly made his way downstairs into the bakery where he saw someone standing outside the door. Without having to open it he could see her hair was naturally done up in its simple, traditional braid that fell down her back. When he opened the door his face broke out in a smile when he saw her standing there with her book bag slung over her shoulder. By how heavy it looked, he knew she'd brought along her math text and probably various other assignments, worked-out examples and quizzes from the previous month. She was dressed in a green-and-black striped shirt with long sleeves, jeans and wore the running shoes he'd seen her wear everyday to school.

"Sorry I'm late," she said. "Prim needed a bit of help with one of her reading logs, so I gave her one of my old ones and helped her get started. She's usually great when it comes to writing and anything else in English but her teacher raised the bar for this newest one, so she got pretty stumped."

"Hey, no problem," said Peeta casually. "I got your text about twenty minutes ago but we've got tons of time. It's only one-thirty. We've got all afternoon so we've lots of time to do some studying and eat some delicious cake." He smiled warmly and added, "Come on in."

Before entering, she told him with a light chuckle, "I feel like I'm coming here for the first time."

"Hmm, that's funny," he remarked and cocked his head to the side. "If I recall correctly, you and Prim are amongst our most frequent customers. I believe you've been here a few times a month and if memory serves me right, I've seen your little sister's face peering in from the outside window. Are you sure you're Katniss Everdeen, miss? Has my memory been misleading me into thinking I've got the wrong study partner? Have I got the wrong girlfriend?"

She gave him a friendly punch in the shoulder. "Suppose you're right then. Guess there was some kind of mistake. I must not be this girlfriend you speak of so I'll just be going now and—"

"Just kidding!" he exclaimed and gave her a wide, jovial grin. "I'd know my girlfriend's face anywhere and you're definitely Katniss. Well, now that we know there was no mix up and everything's fine, come on in! Make yourself at home. Oh, and ladies first. As you're probably aware of, a proper gentleman should always hold a door open for his darling."

"You're hilarious," she said with a shake of her head.

"As are you," she heard him say and there was laughter in his eyes.

He held the door open for her as she walked in and when she got yet another in-depth look of the world of the Mellark Bakery, her eyes widened. Despite the fact that she'd passed through these doors dozens of times and gazed upon the countless displays, it all felt so new as if this really were her first trip there.

As with the many other times she'd stopped by this place, she was getting a thorough, close-up look at the various treats, desserts and delicacies that bakeries were so famous for. There were multiple cakes in all shapes, sizes, colors and layers and each one was more different than the next. Not one cake on any of the shelves mirrored the one next to it because all were unique one-of-a-kind creations. Some were of three layers covered only with chocolate icing, while others were of a single layer with vanilla icing and rainbow-colored patterns dotted around the edges. On one of the higher shelves, her eyes fell upon a rosy pink that circled the outer edge like a long, thin strip that could have belonged on a Christmas present. The cake was heart-shaped and even had a tiny cupid in the center complete with his wings, bow and quiver of arrows strapped to his back.

"Some like Valentine's Day to come early," Peeta mentioned. A thought then came to him and he threw in, "Or they just like getting cakes with Cupid on them."

"Got any with Santa Clause?"

"Yes, actually." Pointing up to the fourth shelf and to the last one on the row, he asked, "See that one up there?"

She nodded.

"That's got Santa, his sleigh and his reindeer on that one," he explained. "We find lots of little kids like the holiday-themed cakes, even if it's not for another month or so. Those cakes are fun to make though. I think out of all the cakes we cake, the ones for holidays are some of my favourites."

"Must be busy come December," she commented, glancing from one cake to another. "Everyone coming in wanting a specially-made cake just the way they want it."

"It is," he told her. "Usually we give out a few hundred Christmas cakes."

She shot him an incredulous look and asked in shock, "A few hundred?"

"Mhm."

"How do make that many?"

"We do it somehow," he chuckled lightly. "But it's a busy time of year and we don't much of a break when there's customers rushing in saying they need a cake to bring home for their family. It's pretty hectic but I always like hearing how happy everyone is, especially the kids. They're all running around pointing at the cakes and saying, 'I wanna buy all of them! Please?' It's fun watching them."

"You guys must have your hands full," was all she could say.

"That's one way of putting it," he agreed.

The amount of detail put into the cakes was truly staggering and it blew her mind to think of how many they'd sold since the place first opened. It was just as incredible to imagine all the time and effort that was put into crafting these popular desserts. There were glittering swirls that merged together and this only made the colors seem that much brighter and more alive. Odd, mysterious symbols could be seen lining the sides and right away she could tell they weren't any she'd ever known about. Then there were just as many illustrations she was familiar with – thick tree branches that held an array of elegant pansies, a fire-breathing dragon with bat-shaped wings, curled horns and razor talons, a magnificent castle that could have leaped straight out of a children's fairytale, a well-grown garden that offered crunchy carrots, juicy cucumbers, fresh peas and beans, ripe tomatoes and an abundance of red, green and yellow peppers.

It was after staring up at the several rows of delicately-made cakes that she remembered who was responsible for designing these gorgeous cakes.

She turned to Peeta and with a look of awe, said, "You did all of these?"

He stepped up beside her and replied, "Not all of them, but most. Some of them Dad pretty much did himself but he likes to put me in charge when it comes to decorating cakes. My brother Rye helps out sometimes but my father lets me do a lot of them since he knows I love decorating them so much, where Rye isn't that into it. Luchi works here full-time so he does a bit of everything but he doesn't spend much time working on the cakes. The majority of the time he's dealing with bread, pastries and other desserts so I guess I'm the only one who loves doing up the cakes. It's fun too, especially because I try and make each cake special in its own way. That's the best part of it all – not replicating the same thing twice. And there's so much you can do with them, with all the icing and supplies and whatnot. The ideas are endless, really. I feel like I could spend a whole month in here just whipping up cakes and I still wouldn't run out of ideas."

"That's crazy," she said, gazing around. "I'd never be able to do something like that. There's just so much work that goes into it."

He shrugged and told her, "You never know. You said you'd never get good at art but I'd say you've gotten pretty talented. You're definitely on your way. Who's to say you couldn't become an expert cake designer too? With a little tutoring and practice, I bet you'd get a real knack for it."

"Well, I wouldn't say expert," she argued with a smile. "Maybe an amateur, but nothing like an expert. And anyway.. _._ _you're_ the expert. You said so yourself. You're the one your dad puts in charge of the cakes so I'm guessing he thinks you've got quite a knack for it if he's letting you do almost all the work."

"I try to," was his modest response.

"So what should we get going on first?" she asked. "Should we bake the cake first, do some studying and then bake it or—"

"Actually, I was hoping we could spend some time doing something else before getting started on any of that."

She raised a brow, unsure of what he meant by this and said, "What'd you have in mind?"

"How about I lead you upstairs to the kitchen first?" he suggested while gesturing towards the stairs. "I'll explain everything then."

She gave him an enquiring look and told him, "Is this some kind of surprise or are you not going to tell me?"

"I guess in a way it's kind of like a surprise," he admitted. When she reached the stairs and was just starting her way up, he spoke up saying, "I just have one question."

"What?"

"You haven't eaten yet, have you?" was the question.

"No," she answered slowly, and shot him an even more inquisitive look. "Are you planning something, baker? Do you have like a hundred cakes up here made and you want to show me them all or—"

"A hundred cakes?" he exclaimed. "I'd never have the time to whip up that sort of banquet. What I had in mind was a bit simpler but I hope you'll enjoy it."

When at last she got to the top of the steps and was led into the kitchen, she understood what Peeta had meant. When he'd asked her if she was hungry, she assumed he'd baked some kind of dessert or a special, tasty kind of bread but what he'd put together was neither of those things. Her initial reaction was to stand there with her eyes widened and mouth open because she just hadn't expected what she was now gawking at. It wouldn't have surprised her so much to see a freshly-baked cake, a warm loaf of bread ready for cutting or a pan of chocolately cookies waiting to be devoured. Nowhere in sight though was there cake, bread or a plate of gooey, scrumptious chocolates.

It now became clear what Peeta must have been doing while she'd been assisting Prim with her reading log. There was no way he could have arranged and prepared all of this so quickly because the amount of detail was just too mind-boggling.

The kitchen had been given a total, splendid make-over. In the center was a long wooden table with six high-backed chairs – two on either end and four along the sides. Covering it was a thick, white tablecloth and sprinkled on top were so many rose petals that Katniss would have sworn she'd stepped right into a rose garden. They were such a deep, rich shade of red that if compared to any other rose, would have undoubtedly put them to shame. Positioned directly in the center was a tall, glass vase that held a bouquet of colourful irises. Just like the ones down by lake, there were royal-purples, rosy reds, deep oranges, pallid whites and golden yellows. All were bunched together in a vivid display and as the vase had a sparkling, crystal-like appearance, a shimmering light shone off it which really did give the overall setup a wonderful touch. Plates, glasses and silverware had been placed at opposite ends of the table along with two tall candles that gave off a soft, inviting glow. Napkins had been neatly folded alongside the plates and tied to the backs of two of the chairs was a large, red ribbon.

She could think of only one word to describe all of this – breathtaking.

"W-when did you do this?" she asked, unable to keep from staring at this stunning arrangement.

"Around twelve-thirty," he answered, and was immensely pleased at her reaction to what he'd done to the room.

"How long did it take you?"

"About half an hour."

"You did all this that fast?" she exclaimed, even more amazed than she'd been just three seconds ago. "How?"

A wide smile crossed his face and through a laugh, he asked her, "You know that nursery rhyme Jack Be Nimble?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that was me in a way," he smiled. "Originally, I didn't plan on putting together something like this but then a few hours before you got here, I thought it'd be nice if we could have some lunch before we got studying. So I had to be pretty quick in getting it all ready. So really, I guess it would been like this: Peeta be nimble, Peeta be quick."

"But you didn't jump over a candlestick?" she said, a grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

"No, no jumping. But I was definitely nimble and quick."

She went temporarily silent, and then said more seriously, "You didn't have to do all this though, Peeta. I mean, this is incredible and I still can't believe you put a thing like this together so fast but you didn't have to. It must have been a lot of work getting everything set up and decorating the table and all."

"I wanted to," he told her genuinely. "And trust me when I say this Katniss. Any bit of work is nothing if it means I get to spend time with you. I'd decorate the entire house if you wanted and if I forget to tell you this, once I get an idea in my head, there's no getting it out. As soon as I thought of a romantic lunch, I got my thinking cap on and got to work. It's no different than when I'm working on cakes either. There's been so many times where Dad and I would get last minute calls from customers saying they wanted to scrap their old cake and have us do up a new one. Even at the last minute we'd still be able to whip up a brand new cake with frosting and whatever else the customer wanted, so there's not much of a difference. If I gotta get something done, I'll get it done."

"You got this done, that's for sure," she remarked, pointing to the astounding dinner table.

"So it's looks alright?" he said while heading over to one of the chairs.

She followed behind and shot back, "Are you kidding? If there was an award for Most Romantic Dinner Display, you'd have won it, no question."

"I'll take that as a compliment," he said with a huge smile. "Thank you." He then slid back one of the chairs and when she'd taken a seat, he pushed it back in and inspected the table one last time. Satisfied with the general look and feel of it, he leaned down and said in a gracious tone, "Would you mind waiting here for a few minutes, Miss Everdeen?"

She burst out laughing and said, "No, that's fine." When she noticed him leaving the kitchen, she called out, "Where you going?"

"Be right back, miss," he called back cordially. "Your waiter will be with you shortly."

It hadn't even been a few minutes when Peeta returned. When Katniss heard his approaching footsteps, she turned and when she saw what he'd done to himself, she had to smile and shake her head because it was pure Peeta. He was no longer dressed in casually in his blue sweater, jeans and sneakers. Just like with the kitchen table, he too had gone through a rather impressive transformation. In hardly no time at all, he'd gone from a casual baker's son to a waiter. One look at him and she couldn't deny what with his new change in clothes, formal appearance and dazzling smile, he was the most handsome waiter she'd ever laid eyes on.

He was wearing a white button-up shirt over which he wore a black vest and along with this he'd changed into white gloves, black pants, socks and shoes. As a finishing touch to his professional look, he'd secured a black bow tie between his collars. How he'd been able to change out of his old clothes and into these new ones baffled her because she was certain it would have taken her half as long. She assumed he must not have been kidding when he'd referred to himself as being 'nimble and quick' like the Jack from the nursery rhyme. The fact that he'd gotten dressed as quickly as he had pretty well confirmed that.

When he stepped up beside her, he cleared his throat, handed her a menu and announced in a charming voice, "Good afternoon, Miss Everdeen. So lovely to see you here at the Mellark Restaurant. I'm delighted to inform you that I'll be your waiter for this afternoon."

"Is there anything you haven't done?" she said in wonder. "The table, being my waiter, a menu...you even did up a menu!"

"Like I said, ma'am," said Peeta with a wink. "When I've got something on my mind, I'm nimble and quick. As for the menu, I hope you'll—"

"You look so cute dressed up like that," she said while staring him over. "Especially with that bow tie."

"That's kind of you to say, miss," said Peeta. He then leaned down close to her and whispered playfully, "And if you don't mind me saying, you look as beautiful as always. I must be the luckiest waiter in the world to have been given the pleasure of serving you."

"Yeah, it's not every day you get to be the waiter for your new girlfriend."

"No, it's not," he made a point of emphasizing. With one of his familiar grins, he told her, "Now as for the menu, I hope you'll find something in there you might like to try. As your personal waiter, I've tried to come up with what I think is a wide selection of what I can offer you."

"Oh, I'm sure I'll find something," she assured him. "Knowing what you're like, it'd be impossible for any of this stuff to not be delicious."

"Thank you, ma'am. Now before you decide on what you'd like for the main course, would you be interested in some of our appetizers?"

"I would." She noticed Peeta reaching into his pocket and what he pulled out was a yellow notepad and a pen. He flipped through the pages till he found a blank one and then returned his focus to his amused customer.

"And what will you be having, miss?"

"Your garlic toast looks good. That with some butter would be nice."

"Garlic toast with butter," he said while jotting it down. "Lovely. That's actually one of our most popular starters, so I hope you'll enjoy them. Will you be wanting a drink with that?" In a hilariously dramatic tone, he went on, "And just so you know, miss, alcohol-based beverages are strictly forbidden at this eatery so I hope you weren't planning on having any alcohol with your—"

"I think you're the funniest waiter I've ever had," she commented through a fit of chuckles. "No, I wasn't planning on having any of that."

"Phew, good thing. We've had customers complain about our peculiar agreement on not selling alcohol-based beverages. So what would you like to drink then?"

"Water would be great."

"Some ice with that?"

"Sure."

"Before I head down to prepare your order, have you decided what you'd like for the main course?"

"This chicken Caesar salad you've got here looks pretty good," she said while pointing to image on her pamphlet. "The one with the lemon dressing. And a baked potato with chives and sour cream would be nice."

"And to drink?"

"The strawberry smoothie looks to die for."

"Excellent choice," he commented. After stuffing the notepad and pen back into his pocket, he told her, "I should have this whipped up in about twenty minutes. Feel free to get started on the studying while I'm getting your meal ready."

"What'll you be having?"

"Same as you, my dear," said Peeta with a charming smile and with that, he made his way over to the counter where he began searching cupboards and drawers for whatever he'd need. Soon, he had a variety of bowls, spoons, cutting boards and pans laid out and all ready for use. Whatever he'd need to present his customer's requested meal to her was all right on his fingertips.

Now all he needed to do was get cooking.

While he was busy with the preparation and cooking of their meal, Katniss did just as he suggested and dug into her bag where she'd brought most of her notes. When she got everything out and placed it on the table, she had to blink, for it was currently hitting her how much material they'd covered so far. In a single month, they'd gone through more topics than she would have guessed, but Ms. Coin loved piling on as much work as she could.

For those twenty minutes, she dug through old sheets while letting her eyes scan over the many examples she'd so carefully written out. Some were lengthy and took up an entire page while others were quite short and could have been skimmed over rather quickly. She wasn't nervous even the slightest for their upcoming test but Peeta was another matter entirely. Where she had an unlimited amount of confidence when it came to mathematics, he was consistently struggling to remain as positive as he could.

She had to laugh out loud at picturing his face whenever their teacher would inform them a quiz was approaching, or an in-class assignment. It was at that exact moment when she'd broken out laughing that Peeta re-appeared behind her carrying a large tray. Without a word, he strolled up to the table and carefully set their food on the table and began filling her plate. Her stomach was rumbling at the very sight of what he'd brought – large chunks of garlic toast with the soft, warm butter she'd requested to go with it and a tall glass of ice-cold water.

The main course hadn't even been served yet and already she had the feeling she'd be craving seconds.

"There you are, miss," Peeta proudly pronounced. He took a seat next to her and after reaching for a few of the bread sticks himself, said cheerily, "Hope you're as hungry as I am."

"Hungrier!" she declared and took an eager bite out of the thick bread. She'd hardly begun swallowing before dipping it fervently in the cup of butter and shoving it into her mouth. Peeta was watching her with the greatest of interest and a small smile was growing on his face.

"How is it?"

"Best bread I've ever had," she said through mouthfuls. "Hands down the best bread anywhere."

"That's good to know then," he said, taking a bite himself. "I'll be sure to bring up some more with the salad if you want."

There was a short pause and he heard her say, "Peeta?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't know if anyone's ever told you this," she started and then said with a sincere smile, "But you make an amazing waiter."

He smiled at the flattering compliment. "Thank you," he responded. "I'd hope to be a good waiter for any customer but when it's my girlfriend, then I've got to be the best of the best."

"Well, you and the food are the best of the best," she added with certainty. In a more serious tone, she said, "Now, how about we get going on some math? I know you're dying to go through some of these problems and show me how much you've learned."

He swallowed a piece of his bread, gave her an unenthusiastic look and muttered, "Ugh."

"Hey!" she warned, poking him in the arm. "You want to fail that test?"

He shook his head vigorously and told her, "No...no, that wouldn't be good."

"Then let's get started," she said, sliding a page of notes towards him. "Here's some of the questions we did back in September. Here's what we'll do: you look through these and explain to me how you'd go about solving them. I know they're all worked out but I want to see that you get the general concept. If you understand that, you should be fine for next week."

"Got it," said Peeta. He focused his attention on the page beneath him and found a question that dealt with the multiplication of binomials. "So here we have (5y + 3x) times (8y-1). First, I have to change the subtraction sign to addition."

"Okay, why?" asked Katniss, tracing the end of her pen along the table.

"Because you've got a negative sign and a positive sign," he answered with conviction. "If there were two positives, you'd leave them as is. If there were two negatives, you'd switch them to positive but here we've got one positive and one negative, so that gets changed to addition. So when you do that, you get (5y + 3x) times (8y+ - 1)."

"And what would your next step be?"

Peeta's hand was covering the worked-out steps and after running it over in his head, he went on, "Then you'd use FOIL to work out the rest. So you'd do first, last, inner, outer. First, you'd get 5y x 8y = 40y². For outer, you'd get 5y(-1) = -5y. For inner, you'd have (3x) x 8y = 24xy. Then for last, you'd have 3x(-1) = -3x. To finish it off, you then combine then so when you do that, you get 40y² +24xy + -5y + -3x."

"Anything else?"

"Nope," said Peeta. "There's no like terms to combine so this question's done. If there were any like terms remaining, I'd have to make sure to combine them because you can't leave a question like that. Never forget to double-check to make sure like terms are combined, that's what you always tell me."

"Awesome," she said, pleased with his thorough explanation. "Seems like you've got the hang of multiplying binomials. And it's the same process with multiplying trinomials so you should be good with those. Alright, let's keep going. Now onto dividing polynomials."

"I've got a better idea!" Peeta interrupted while jumping out of his chair. "How about I get our delicious lunch ready and then we'll get started with division? Sounds like a plan."

"You'll do anything to avoid math, won't you?" she joked.

He picked up her plate as well as his own, opened his mouth in shock and replied, "Me? Want to avoid math? Where'd you hear a thing like that, Katniss? I'm just as crazy about math as you, remember? I live and breathe for that stuff."

"Oh?" she asked, raising a brow in discernible doubt.

"Yup," he said optimistically. "Can't get enough of math! Good old math!"

"Sure, Peeta...sure," she said as if she didn't believe him for a second. "You keep telling yourself that."

"I will." He winked and called back to her when he returned to his spot at the counter, "Who knows? Maybe one of these days it'll come true? You never know."

"Doubt it," she giggled quietly under her breath.

Peeta turned around and with a crooked smile, murmured, "I heard that!"

"I know you did. That's why I said it."

"Hmm, I think you're the most interesting customer I've ever had," he said thoughtfully and was soon once more occupied with preparing their much-anticipated dinner.

Katniss meanwhile, was browsing through her mountain of notes to pick out the trickiest questions. Her plan was to construct her own list of questions that Peeta could tackle, rather than spend his time simply glancing through ones that had already been completed. She did up problems that involved a range of topics that included completing the square, collecting like terms, factoring, simplifying algebraic equations, finding all the possible values for 'x' and 'y' and exponents. Out of all these, she knew the one he'd dread having to focus on would be completion of the square. So many times he'd give up in frustration, pushed it aside or begged Katniss to give him a hand. There was no arguing it was the trickiest subject they'd been introduced to yet but she was determined to increase his comfort level, and encourage him to go through the procedure on his own.

In the end, she'd done up a sheet that consisted of ten questions. She felt doing this would be one of the greatest ways to boost Peeta's self-confidence because it would force him to rely on what he'd already learned and reviewed. As he did in art, he was there to offer her help, tips and advice and she would do the same for him. If he stumbled on a question and hadn't any idea of how to proceed, she'd jump in and guide him in the right direction but the key was to see how much he could do on his own. If she could accomplish that, then she wouldn't be worried about him doing poorly on next week's test. Up till then, he'd been scoring fairly well on all of his quizzes so that right there was a hopeful indication of how he'd do on the first test of the year.

"That smells good," she said, and inhaled what smelled like chicken and lemons.

"Let's hope I don't eat all of this. My stomach's getting pretty hungry so I don't know how much longer this food's gonna be here. Might just have to eat everything myself."

"Do that and you'll be the worst waiter in the world."

"Ahh, but you said not that long ago I was the best waiter in the world," she heard him say. He then gave a toothy smile, glanced over his shoulder and reminded her, "And I believe you also said I was the most handsome."

"I did," said Katniss. "But that can change, you know. The best waiter in the world can always step down to being the worst waiter in the world."

"Oh, that won't happen," said Peeta jovially. "All waiters here at the Mellark Restaurant are nothing short of great." After pouring some of the homemade dressing in the large bowl that held the chopped, washed lettuce, he asked her, "So how's the studying going?"

"Good. I hope you've worked up just as much of an appetite for math as you have for dinner because I'm planning on having a pretty intense study-session. We're gonna cover so much stuff that you'll be doing black flips by the time that test rolls around."

Peeta frowned and with little enthusiasm, whispered, "Ugh!"

"Peeta!" she scolded with a half smile. "What did we say about your attitude towards math?"

A jumble of muddled words that couldn't be distinguished was all she received.

"Excuse me?"

"That I gotta try and be more positive," he reiterated while exhaling loudly.

"You're not sounding too positive now though," she pointed out, still wearing that smile.

"Sure I am."

"Peeta," she chastised.

"Katniss," he said, mimicking her tone effortlessly.

"Where's that positive outlook on math?" she enquired, tapping her fingers in a set rhythm on the table.

Before she could carry on, Peeta wiped the frown off his face, gave her the biggest smile he could and shouted with glee, "Man I love math!"

"Much better," she said, evidently impressed.

"Let's just hope what I've got cooked for you is better than my keenness for math."

"No worries there."

She was about to skim through her notes a second time when the definite smell of fresh, citric lemons drifted slowly but surely up to her nose. She took a deep breath, let the scent drift closer towards her and just by the smell, she knew what her waiter was carrying. This was confirmed when he set down a large bowl, a plate and a glass that was filled to the top with a thick, pink, creamy liquid. In the bowl was a freshly-made chicken Caesar salad with romaine lettuce that had been washed and scattered about were perfectly-cooked slices of chicken. As the bowl was now in front of her, the lemony smell was stronger than ever and a quick glance showed he'd also threw in crispy croutons, bacon bits and shredded mozzarella cheese that was sprinkled on top. It all looked and smelled so heavenly that she nearly forgot she wasn't really in a restaurant but then again, the Mellark Bakery was proving to be just as fabulous. Best of all, she got to be served by a waiter who just so happened to be her boyfriend.

"There you are, miss!" Peeta proclaimed, taking a seat next to her. "Your chicken Caesar salad with the lemon dressing, a baked potato with sour cream and chives and a freshly-blended strawberry smoothie to wash it all down. All freshly-made and ready to be eaten."

"This is...is just perfect," she said and eagerly took a sip of the fruity drink. Her taste buds got hit with the delectable taste of strawberries and no sooner had she swallowed was she gulping down another mouthful.

"How is it?"

"It looks perfect," she started and then with a smile, added, "And it tastes even better."

"Great!" he said excitedly. "I hope you'll enjoy the meal just as much. I had to make sure every piece of chicken was cut just right and that it didn't burn, so I hope you'll find it tasty."

"Oh, I will. Don't have to worry about that. If your cupcakes are any indication of how you are with cooking meals, then it's not gonna be gross."

And it wasn't.


	24. Chapter 24

**CHAPTER 24**

 **OCTOBER**

The first bite of the salad Katniss took left such a lemony taste in her mouth that she knew she'd never eat another salad again without this homemade dressing. It wasn't too sour so as to be unpleasant but it was just bitter enough to get her tongue begging for more. It gave such flavour to the lettuce and with the croutons, bacon bits and bits of cheese speckled on top, it was a most satisfying blend. When she shifted her focus to the baked potato, one bite was all it took to confirm that her waiter had indubitably outdone himself on all aspects of the feast. Without even having to ask how many she'd wanted, he'd sprinkled just enough chives on her potato to give it a mild, garlic taste that drove her taste buds crazy. From the lemony salad with its juicy, succulent chicken, to the potato that was dotted with chives, to the luscious smoothie...it was restaurant quality in her books.

"This is amazing," she said after swallowing another bite of chicken. "Best dressing ever."

"You like it?"

"I'd be crazy not to," she shot back. "The flavour's spot on."

"I've been making that for years," he explained, taking a sip of his drink. "Dad actually got the recipe from a friend but I've been hooked on it ever since. I won't even eat a salad if this dressing's not part of it. It's like I'm so used to it that anything else just wouldn't taste as good."

"You've got me hooked now," she said. While pointing her fork directly at his nose, she sternly instructed, "And I hope you plan on lending me this recipe of yours."

"Ma'am?" he asked with a shocked gasp. "Are you threatening your waiter?"

She shrugged as if considering it and answered mischievously, "I don't know...am I?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On what you plan on doing with that fork."

"I plan on doing a lot of things with this fork," she said with an evocative gleam in her eyes.

"Such as?"

"Finishing lunch," she said and Peeta had to chuckle at this.

"Thank goodness," he said. With a huge sigh of relief, he leaned back in his chair and put his hands contentedly behind his head. "Because for a second I thought you and I were gonna have ourselves a fork duel."

"Define fork duel."

"You know, fork duel," he said as if it was the most well-known event in the world. He spotted the fork next to his empty plate, picked it up and held it out towards her with a growing smile. His eyes darted back and forth between her fork and his own and she heard him explain, "One of the most risky, but exciting tournaments ever to be devised in District Twelve. Two players compete with forks, they duel it out and whoever gets their fork knocked out of their hand in the end wins. Simple enough."

"Simple and dangerous," she threw in and brought her utensil up to his and gave it a light, but forceful strike. "How about you and I have ourselves a fork duel right now then, Peeta? I know you're a waiter but I'm sure you can spare a bit of time to battle it out."

He quickly set his fork back on the table with a grimace. "Uhh, I'll pass on that thanks."

"What's the matter?" she challenged with a grin. "Scared forkless you're gonna lose?"

"Ahhh, I get it! Scared crapless. Scared forkless. Oh, you're funny." Peeta then raised a brow suggestively and in an impressed tone, remarked, "You're quite the joker today, aren't you miss?"

"Well, considering I'm sitting by the funniest guy I know, some of your humor's bound to rub off on me."

"And it is," he pointed out. "Like you said yourself: I'm scared forkless to engage in a fork duel with you. But judging by how you handle that fork, I'd have to say there's no way I'd be able to beat my girlfriend at such a battle."

"So you are scared forkless then?" she grinned, helping herself to yet another bite of the leftover salad in her bowl.

"Seems so," he replied with a shrug and a goofy smile. "But you're forgetting something important."

"What?"

"Right now, I'm your waiter. And as your water, I'm a little hesitant about accepting your challenge to a duel. Waiters deal with food and orders but they don't involve themselves with things outside of that, especially not utensil wars. Your boyfriend on the other hand is another matter."

"And how so?"

"He'd be more than willing to accept your proposition," he said, wiggling his brows in the most hilarious way.

"Alright then," she said eagerly. She held her fork up, gave it a blow and raised it so it was nearly touching her opponent's nose. "Well, since you're no longer my waiter and dinner is over, how about we have ourselves an official duel?"

"I was hoping you'd ask," Peeta responded, ready and raring to go. "Because I'm so up for a fork duel. Gonna knock that fork out of your hand so fast you won't even see it coming."

"Bring on it," she said, tightening her grip on her own.

"Oh, it's so on."

With a clash of metal of against metal, the two began their duel and while neither had ever actually engaged in such competition, both played nothing but fiercely. Without even pausing or slowing down, the two swiped their forks and all that filled the air was the constant clanking and clattering of their strikes. It was difficult to tell in the first few minutes who might claim the crown and walk out victorious because both had such firm grasps on their forks. Their eyes were focused intensely and anyone who strolled into the room would have guessed by the deeply concentrated looks on their faces that something big was at stake. Of course, it was all entirely fun and for a joke but that didn't mean they weren't giving it there all, the two most definitely were.

It wasn't till Peeta felt one of his fingers slipping off his weapon that he knew what to expect. With a final strike, he felt his challenger's fork knock his right out of his hand and then his eyes trailed after it as it clattered to the ground. Gone was his fork and when he glanced back over to Katniss, he saw the victory showing all over her face. Triumph was visible in her eyes and with the smallest smile, she lowered her fork back onto the table but said not a word. The most Peeta could do was look from Katniss to his fork, and then from his fork back to her as if in disbelief over what had just happened.

"So uh, what were you saying about knocking that fork out of my hand?" she asked teasingly.

"Oh, that?" he said and went on sarcastically, "That was nothing. I wasn't even being serious."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"So you knew I'd beat you then?"

He rolled this question around in his head for a grand total of two seconds before admitting, "Pretty much."

She took her piles of notes and while placing them back in her bag, said eagerly, "Well, I think that was one of the tastiest lunch's I've ever had and that fork duel was the most exciting battle I've ever fought. So since that's all done, guess what time it is?"

Peeta grumbled quietly and said in a hardly audible voice, "Math."

"And we're going to ace that test next week, right?" she said giving him an unwavering stare.

"Let's hope."

"I can tell you right now you won't be getting that kind of grade with that attitude. Gotta be confident, Peeta. If I didn't have the confidence I do in math, it definitely wouldn't be my strongest subject. It's the same with you in art. You've got enough confidence for the entire class and probably the entire school. Now you just gotta apply that same thinking to math. Do that and any test Coin can throw at you will be cake and—"

"Speaking of cake!" interrupted Peeta excitedly.

"Don't tell me," she said with a knowing roll of her eyes. "Time for dessert?"

"What time does the clock say?"

"Ten after three."

"Perfect timing!" he proclaimed. "Ten after three's always dessert time at the Mellark Restaurant."

"And at what time do you guys review some math?"

"Whenever we're done eating," he said as if it was the only possible answer. "Can't study on an empty stomach."

"But we just ate," she chuckled as she handed him her plate.

"True," said Peeta. He'd gathered up all the dishes, glasses and utensils and was now loading them gingerly into the dishwasher. When he had them all in place, he closed the door and pressed a few buttons that started the washing and drying cycle that would have them squeaky clean in half an hour. "But stomachs have two compartments. One is for meals and one is for dessert. Since we haven't eaten dessert yet, I won't be able to focus and make sure I ace that test. I won't be able to study if I don't get any brain fuel."

"Can't have that then," she said, pushing her chair in. "And now that you mention it, I kind of would like something sweet, though I doubt whatever we have will be as sweet as you. The food was amazing but you're the sweetest thing in this restaurant."

He gave a small grin at her witty observation and led her down the hall towards the stairs. She knew at once where he was leading her – the area where all the organizing, arranging and preparing of the food occurred – and it was a place she'd never gotten an up-close look at. Every trip she'd taken to the bakery, she'd wondered about the detailed procedures and steps that went into creating the delicacies she'd gazed upon on the shelves and tables. How was everything done? What sort of equipment was used? Was it easy to operate? How long of a process did it take to create the various breads and sweets? These were all things that had crossed her mind while deciding what she and Prim wanted to purchase and now she was about to be given some answers.

It was when she was led into a large room that her eyes went wide at what she was now gawking at. Peeta sensed her surprise and with much enthusiasm, presented her with a brief explanation of what each of the contraptions did. In just a few minutes, he'd familiarized her with equipment and machinery like bread moulders, mixers, ovens, bread slicers, proofers, sheeters, conveyors, refrigerators, ventilation hoods, transit racks and several others. It was intriguing to actually be able to examine the numerous tools and apparatuses that were used to create all the foods she'd grown so fond of. Taking in all he was showing and telling her, she saw there was an apparatus for everything and anything. Whether it was bread, pies, bagels, cookies donuts, pastries or tarts, there'd be an appliance of some kind to ensure it got properly made.

"Lots of stuff, isn't there?" asked Peeta.

"And you know how to use all of it?"

He shrugged nonchalantly and told her, "When you work in a place like this, you have to. I still remember when Dad first showed me it all and I thought my head was gonna burst. It all sounded and looked so confusing but once you practice and start using the machines, it's not that bad. But since I'm usually working on the cakes, Dad, Mom and Luchi are the ones that do everything else. Rye does most of the brownies since those are his favourite but I'm almost always at the cake station."

"I'm guessing you've lost count of how many cakes you've made?" she said, stating the obvious.

"That's one way of putting it," he agreed. "When you're on the go baking, icing, checking and packaging, it's kind of hard to know what number you're on." With a clap of his hands, he said excitedly, "Ready to get that dessert made?"

"So are we going with cake then?" she asked.

"Whatever you want, just name it," said Peeta, pointing to the endless number of gizmos and machines that surrounded them. "We've got all the materials, ingredients and tools we need to make anything so whatever you're craving, we'll make it."

"Hmm, it's hard to pick," she said, thinking it over. "Not an easy decision."

"We'd better choose fast," he warned while giving his belly an exaggerated rub. "I'm so hungry I can barely think."

"Yeah, we'd better be quick then," she said with a laugh. "Or else you won't even get to that sheet I made up for you."

"Uh-oh," said Peeta with a frown. "What sheet?"

"Your practice test," she said casually. "You gotta have something to work on if you want to survive that test."

"Good point."

"Still though," she went on. "It's hard to pick when you can pretty much make whatever you want. I don't know how you ever decide on what to make without trying to make it all."

"Well, we've got lots to choose from," he said with a smile, and went through the list of treats they could make. "We've got cookies, cakes, pies, brownies, pastries, cupcakes, muffins, cinnamon rolls, tarts, donuts, pretzels, you name it. We could _even_ have some raw cookie dough if you want. Wait...no, maybe not. That might not be such a great idea."

"I bet you eat it though," she chuckled. "Who _doesn't_ love raw cookie dough? Prim's crazy about it and I can't blame her. It's pretty awesome stuff."

"Oh, I do eat it," he admitted, but then gave a laugh and said, "Like you said, who doesn't love it? But last time I did, I got extremely sick and ended up throwing up for almost half the night. Not kidding either. I spent more time at the toilet than I did in bed. Since then I've been kind of reluctant about giving it another try so let's just say I can't look at the stuff the same way again. Kind of unfortunate though, especially when you've got a sweet tooth."

"And since you work in a bakery, you must get those all the time."

"It's hard not to when there's a giant cake sitting right in front of you and it's your job to get it decorated."

"We'd better avoid cookie dough then," Katniss concluded.

"Agreed."

"Although cake sounds pretty nice," she told him. "And we said we'd make that anyway so how about we go with that?"

"Okay," he said. "What kind of cake would you like? Chocolate? Vanilla? Marble? Spice, Carrot, Cinnamon or—"

"Whoa, slow down," she laughed. Peeta gave a light chuckle and after she'd thought for a moment, she suggested, "Chocolate sounds good. Can't go wrong with that."

"That's my favourite," he smiled. "Nothing beats chocolate. It's just too good a flavour."

There was a brief pause, before Katniss spoke up and asked him, "Should I just sit here and wait till it's done?"

"Don't you want to help?" said Peeta who gave her a somewhat perplexed look.

"Well, I've never really baked anything before," she told him honestly. "I mean, I've baked the store-bought cakes but I've never actually made something from scratch. So I wouldn't even know where to start."

"Aw, that's okay," said Peeta reassuringly. He put a hand warmly on her shoulder and proposed, "Tell you what: we'll do everything together. How's that sound? I can do most of the work if you want and you can do some of the easier steps if that makes you more comfortable? You don't have to if you don't want to, but it would be fun to have a helper and you'd be a terrific help! And an extra pair of hands is always helpful."

Katniss gave him a small smile, came to a decision and said, "Alright Mr. Baker."

Peeta rubbed his chin pensively and said, "So I'm Mr. Baker, huh? Then that means I'll have to make you my assistant which means I've got some work to do. Just give me one second."

"Where you going?"

"You'll see!"

He turned and scampered out of the room but was back an instant later. In his arms he was carrying two aprons; one was a deep green while the other was a soft orange. He walked up behind her and assisted her in tying up the string into a simple knot and when he got a look at her wearing it he couldn't hold back a playful grin. Just as she'd enjoyed seeing him replicate the image of a waiter, he got just as much enjoyment out of seeing dressed up in an apron.

"That's more like it!" he declared.

"You even knew green was my favourite color," said Katniss, sounding notably pleased. "You're pretty smart."

"Thank you," he said, sounding equally contented. "Glad I could find the right one. Now onto the ingredients."

Peeta rummaged through one of the cupboard drawers and finding the recipe he was searching for, dug it out and handed it to Katniss. While he went around gathering everything they'd need, she couldn't help watching him. Her eyes simply refused to look away from him and in some unexplainable way, it was like she was captivated. As she'd done several times already, she took in his mop of blond hair and the thick strands that fell in smooth waves over his forehead, the bright blue eyes that reminded her of crystals or the ocean and his stocky build that he'd gained from years of working in the bakery. Though they'd only officially been together for a little over a week, it really felt more like they'd known each other for months. She thought back to when she'd first met Peeta in art class and how perceptibly shy she'd been, but quickly realized he wasn't the kind of guy to be shy around. Where she hadn't known what to say or how to feel around guys in general, the blond-haired, blue-eyed boy she'd ended up partners with had struck her as different. He was so kind and tremendously humorous that it was close to impossible to not want to be around him. It was like some magnetic field of enticing energy sparked to life whenever she was so much as in the same room as him and at that very second...she was growing aware of its presence.

When all the materials had been set on the table, Peeta rubbed his hands together and said, "Think that's everything. A bag of flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, sugar, vanilla essence, milk, melted butter, eggs. Alright, first things first, we pre-heat the oven. So I'll just turn this up to 375°. Don't want it too high or else the cake might burn."

"But we're not gonna be leaving the room?"

"True, but the oven lets off a lot of heat so if I go up to four-hundred or higher, it's gonna cook a lot faster and we don't want to risk it hardening up. That happened once when I put one of the cakes in when the temperature was 425°. It got a bit crunchy for my liking so after that I stuck with lower temperatures and the cakes turned out great. The centers were soft, moist, rich and the edges weren't overly brown."

"You're pretty picky when it comes to baking, aren't you?" she observed.

He closed the oven door and replied, "When you've tasted a cake that's been cooked too long, you do get a little picky." He wiggled his eyebrows slightly and added, "But that's a good thing because it means you get rewarded with cake that's out of this world."

Katniss eyed the oven door with a noticeable hunger and he heard her ask, "How long's that cake gonna take?"

"Shouldn't be too long. About forty minutes. Why?"

"Because now I'm just as hungry as you are," she stated bluntly.

"Let's quicken our pace then," he said, glancing down at the cue card that listed all the required steps to produce a double-layered chocolate cake. "Time to be nimble and quick just like our friend Jack."

"So what should I do?"

"You can grease this pan if you like," he said, holding the pan out to her. "It's always important to grease your pans because it keeps the cake from burning."

She took it and with the pan in one hand and a bottle of vegetable shortening in the other, she got to work greasing it. A simple task like this she didn't mind doing, since it would have been rather difficult to incorrectly grease a pan. If she'd had to undertake a job as scrupulous as frosting as the cake and putting in all the additional details, the result would have likely been a disastrous mess. With the profound know-how and impressively mastered skills Peeta possessed, it was no wonder he did up such marvellous cakes so fluently. Knowing she lacked both the know-how and essential confidence, she was glad she'd be helping with easy, clear-cut steps she knew she could do a satisfactory job on.

While she was busy doing this, Peeta went ahead and started mixing the flour, cocoa powder, sugar, baking powder and vanilla essence into a large, plastic bowl. Following this, he proceeded to the next step which was to melt the butter at low heat, which he then blended with the dry ingredients. The milk was eventually poured in and all he had left to add were the eggs.

He slid the three eggs closer to Katniss and offered, "Care to do the cracking?"

"Guess there isn't much that can go wrong with _that_ _,_ " she said and picked up one of the eggs. She got up out of her chair and walked over towards the bowl and for whatever reason that she just couldn't figure out – she dropped the egg. Whether she'd been in the process of possibly slipping, or out of the blue her hand just felt slippery, she had no idea. All she knew was that she'd dropped it and now on the floor was a splattered puddle of runny yoke and broken bits of shell.

" _Crap_!" she blurted out.

"Hey, that's okay," said Peeta, struggling not to burst out laughing. In a flash, he'd gotten some paper towel and was now bending down to wipe it clean. All the while, both corners of his lips were quivering and he knew why – he was on the verge of having a laugh attack.

He didn't want Katniss to think he was laughing at her though, because he absolutely wasn't. What was so comical was that it reminded him of when he was little and how growing up, he'd always seemed to be dropping things. Sometimes he'd accidently let the bag of flour tip over the countertop and watch in shock as it spilled all over the floor like a monster waterfall. Other times he'd try and carry the bowl of ingredients itself only to end up dropping the bowl because it proved too heavy for him. His father always got a real charge out of it, especially because his son's reactions were always so hilariously over the top.

Peeta could hear himself as a kid pointing to the floor and exclaiming in disappointment to his father, "Dad, look what I did! I let it spill all over the floor and now we'll never be able to make a cake. All the stuff's right there when it's supposed to be in the bowl! What are we going to _do_?"

Luckily his father –who'd be laughing so hysterically by then he thought his lungs would explode – would say, "Not a problem. We'll just get some more ingredients and make another one."

"You mean we can still bake a cake?"

"Absolutely."

"But what if we drop that stuff too?"

"Again, not a problem. We've got everything we need right here in this room, son."

"And if we run out of this stuff?"

"We head to the store and then come back and bake our cake," said his father with a smile.

It was remembering this that Peeta couldn't keep from laughing. Katniss watched him curiously, and asked, "You think it's _that_ funny?"

"No, no it's not that," he said, but the laughter just kept on coming. "I just remember when I was a kid and how I'd always be dropping things and I used to think we'd never be able to make another cake again, as if we'd never get more ingredients. One time it was so bad I started crying because I'd spent the whole morning waiting for Dad and I to make the cake. Then the bowl went flying, landed on the floor and I just lost it. Took Dad a few minutes to calm me down too. All I could think was that I'd never get to have that vanilla-frosted chocolate cake I wanted so badly. Funny, huh?"

Katniss gave an amused laugh and admitted, "That _is_ funny."

"But we've got plenty of eggs, so we've got enough," he assured her. "We don't have to worry about a Humpty Dumpty thing happening."

"Yeah, don't think we'd have much luck putting that egg back together."

"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall," sang Peeta, and rolled the egg around on the counter like it was a spinning top. "Humpty Dumpty had a great fall."

"All the kings horse's and all the king's men," Katniss threw in.

"Couldn't put Humpty together again!" finished Peeta.

"What's with you and nursery rhymes? It's like you know them all."

"I do," he said with a shrug. With a smile, he told her, "I remember all the rhymes Dad use to sing to me when I was a kid. I don't know how I remembered them all, but I did. Now I like to bring them up whenever I can."

"Congratulations, you brought up two today: Jack Be Nimble and Humpty Dumpty."

"Hmm, wonder when the next one will come up?" he wondered out loud.

"I can only imagine," she said in a teasing voice.

"Well, until then it's back to baking." He handed her the second egg and with a friendly wink said jokingly, "Don't drop it."

Katniss rolled her eyes and with a smile, successfully cracked the egg and dropped it in the bowl, which was then followed by two more. "No more Humpty Dumpty eggs anymore."

Peeta gave his hands a light clap and exclaimed, "Way to go! I knew you could do it!"

"Yes, I'm sure you did," said Katniss, giving him the tiniest of a smirk. She then threw in, "Mr. Baker."

"Well, let's have Mr. Baker put this cake in the oven," said Peeta. "Then once it's done, we'll get started on that algebra." It took him only a minute to quickly pour the batter into two nine inch pans, toss them in the oven and set the timer for forty minutes.

"Bet you're gonna _love_ that," said Katniss teasingly. "Nothin' like a bit of algebra to get that brain going, huh?"

" _Ugh_ , not really," he told her, but gave her a smile and said, "But at least I've got you as my teacher. Professor Everdeen: Math Genius."

"Oh yeah? How about Professor Mellark: Expert at All Things to do with Art."

"Hmm, not a bad title," he commented and added with a laugh, "Maybe if I manage to become an Artist one day, I'll make that my official identify."

"I'm sure you will," she said. Holding up her pile of notes, she said in a more serious tone, "Now let's get going with that studying. This is a study date, remember?"

"I remember," said Peeta. "Alright, time to get studying then. How about we take a seat at this table here till our dessert's done?"

She nodded and asked, "Ready to tackle those questions I made for you?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," he said with a light sigh and a crooked smile.

Once they were seated, she handed him a pencil, calculator and eraser and told him, "Let's see what you got."

"What if I get stumped?"

"I'll jump in and help," was her answer. "But the idea is to see how much you can do on your own. I'm not gonna be there when you write that test, so it's good to try and do most of it yourself. That way you'll feel more prepared."

"Makes sense," he said, giving the sheet a long long-over. "Wish me luck."

"You'll do fine," she said and by the tone in her voice, it really sounded like she felt no worries about him not achieving a decent score on her practice test.

"Let's hope," he said and without hesitating, dove headfirst into the first question.

Before starting, however, he couldn't help point out how neat and organized Katniss was with her notes – almost everything was highlighted in different colors – and she told him she'd been like that since she was little. It blew his mind to think how much dedication it would have taken to ensure that every topic and subject had its own separate place. Anything related to graphing would be outlined in green, notes specifically to do with algebra would be colored in yellow, word problems would be in orange and it went on and on. Not one page in her thick binder was out of place, nor was there a single spot that wasn't highlighted in some color.

"I try to be organized," said Peeta who was still flipping through the dozens of pages. "But compared to you, well... let's just say I'm kind of messy. But at least I never lose things. My friend Marvel's lost about five assignments and it's only one month into the school year. We're barely into October and if he keeps this up, he's just gonna keep losing stuff."

"You're not _that_ bad then," said Katniss. "As long as you're not losing stuff, then you're fine. Now what do you think about question one? 2x + 4 over 2. It's division of polynomials, so what's the first step?"

Peeta tapped his finger repeatedly on the table and after staring at the numbers, responded, "Split the division into two fractions. So when you do that, you get 2x/2 + 4/2. The 2's cancel each other out leaving you with x, and 4 divided by 2 is 2, so you're left with x + 2."

"And is that the final answer?"

"Yes because there's nothing left to simplify."

"Great," she said, moderately pleased. "Now how about trying one of the harder ones at the bottom? Maybe try one of the less harder ones. We'll save the agonizingly hard ones till later."

"Ah, I see what you did," said Peeta, circling a question on the far right hand side of the page. "You put all the easy ones up top and the ones that'll get my head spinning on the bottom. Okay then. Let's pick x² + 9x +14 divided by x + 7. So looking at this, the first thing I need to do is find two numbers that will give me 14 when multiplied and give me 9 when added." He only had to think this through momentarily before he found a solution. "Know that I have my numbers, I'll rearrange the equation and that'll give me (x + 2) (x + 7) divided by x + 7. Now I just cancel out the x + 7's and I'm left with x + 2. There's nothing left that needs reducing or simplifying so I'm done."

"You're getting better with factoring," Katniss commented and drawing a red check mark next to his work. Right then, she felt more like a teacher inspecting and grading a student's assignment rather than a student herself.

"Thank goodness. I still remember how slow I was the first week school started. Whenever we'd get factoring for homework, it took me so long just to find what numbers added to give me this and multiplied to give me this. It wasn't easy back then! Especially when you've never been that much of a wiz in math. If I was as slow now as I was a few weeks ago, this test would probably kill me."

Katniss waved him off in disagreement and shot back, "Nah. It'd drive you crazy but I'm sure you'd get through it."

"You're right," said Peeta. 'It wouldn't be the test that would kill me...it'd be the failing grade."

"Good thing you're not gonna be getting a failing grade," she said pointing to the equations that had yet to be solved. "Let's keep going and get the rest of these done. We got another thirty-five minutes till the cake's done so that should be enough time to get them done."

There was a lot of silence for the next thirty-five minutes as Peeta flew through one question after another and Katniss overlooked his progress. Other than the occasional sound of him flipping through the book in search of a question similar to the one he was currently working on, not a word was spoken. It was pure, total concentration for Peeta as he focused on the numbers, variables and in what order he should go about finding the solution. Just as his face took on a special expression when he was in the midst of creating a work of art, it was the same with math. The sheer intensity that appeared on his face couldn't have been missed even if she'd been standing out in the hall; it was just that palpable.

While he was occupied with his practice test, she was busy reviewing some notes herself but the majority of her time was spent watching him. It was important that she point if one of his numbers was incorrect, he'd made a wrong assumption or if his final answer didn't match up with what she'd computed. Doing this helped steer him on the right track and not go wandering off to come up with an answer that wasn't entirely accurate. Only once or twice did he show signs of uncertainty and as his tutor, she stepped in to re-boost his confidence and elucidate whatever he found puzzling. Aside from that, he did considerably well and Katniss felt his problem-solving skills had improved significantly since the start of the year.

"Well done, Peeta," she said. With a proud smile, she recorded his score on the top right-hand corner of the page and slid it towards him. "I'd say your hard work's paying off. If I had a sticker on me, I'd put one on your paper but I don't carry those around with me. I doubt Coin does either."

When he saw the grade he'd received, his eyes widened and his mouth opened in shock.

"R-really?" he said, as if unsure if what he was seeing was real or some illusion of his mind.

"Yup."

"Eighty-three percent? That's the best I've ever done!" he observed, his face breaking out in a relieved smile.

"You're getting better with your skills," she told him while pointing to the textbook and various notes. "And you're getting a lot faster too. For the past while, it took you more time to work through problems and figure the answer out but you're quickening the pace. You managed to get all these done in a little over half an hour and only a few of them were wrong. That's definitely improvement."

"Wow," he said, feeling slightly numb. "If I keep this up, maybe I will do good on that test."

"You will," said Katniss. "It's gonna be the exact same stuff and if you keep studying till then, you might even do better than eighty-three."

"I would have been happy with a seventy," said Peeta. "But hey, never hurts to shoot for higher."

Before they could say anything more, they heard the sound of the timer going off soon the room was filled with a persistent _BEEEEEEEEP._

"Don't have to worry about forgetting stuff with that!" she shouted over the noisy buzzer.

"Nope," said Peeta with a chuckle. "You pretty much hear that from upstairs whether you've got headphones in or not."

When he turned off the timer, he then fetched himself a large oven mitt from one of the table drawers before opening up the oven door. The smell of chocolate and sweetness hit Katniss's nose instantly and without even realizing it, her mouth was starting to water. Since she was little, she'd always had a love for all things chocolate and this freshly-baked cake smelled simply heavenly. Once the cake was out of the oven and set on the countertop, Peeta gathered some things they'd need to go about decorating it. When he found what he wanted, he came back and Katniss saw that he'd gotten a full tub of chocolate frosting, a variety of sprinkles of different shapes, colors and sizes and even some sliced strawberries to plant around the outer edges.

"Just got to wait twenty minutes for it to cool," said Peeta, taking a seat next to Katniss.

" _Twenty_ minutes?" she asked in disappointment. The look and smell of the cake was driving her insane and she wasn't sure she'd be able to wait that long. "Really?"

"Mhm," said Peeta. "If we tried frosting it now, it would just end up all messy. Trust me, I've tried. All that happened was the frosting melted and it got too gooey to eat. Better to wait until it's cooled so the frosting doesn't turn to mush. Let's take another look at those algebra notes then, shall we?"

The twenty minutes certainly went by faster than Katniss had expected. She knew it was a good thing to have Peeta around in times of impatience because he did such a good job distracting and keeping one's mind off things. He did a particularly good job at doing so when one's stomach was rumbling and obsessing over nothing but a freshly baked cake.

When Peeta checked on the cake and saw it was cooled, he said eagerly, "Now comes the fun part." He handed her a butter knife while getting one for himself and slowly and carefully began his work on the cake. "We decorate it. And the best part is that you can do whatever you like to it. Whatever you want to put on the cake, you can."

"But what if I don't frost it right?" she asked him. "I'm pretty sure I won't frost it as good as you."

"Don't worry," said Peeta, his eyes fixated on his work in progress. "There's no right or wrong way to frost a cake. The important thing is that there's frosting on it when you're done. Doesn't matter how much or how little. Some like tons of frosting, some like only a little...it's whatever you want. Now this is just a wild guess here, but am I right in thinking you're a fan of chocolate?"

"You guessed right," she replied.

"So we're gonna smother this cake in chocolate then?"

"You mean we can coat this thing in the stuff?" she asked, her eyes lighting up as if he'd just said it was Christmas morning.

"Of course!"

Katniss nodded in satisfaction and got to work frosting her side of the cake while Peeta continued with his. With the two of them working together – Katniss doing one side while Peeta did the other – it didn't take all that long till the cake was completely covered in the warm, brown frosting. After five minutes of smearing their confection with the gooey substance, Peeta did a quick inspection of their work and smiled, pleased with what they'd done. They'd covered every square inch of their cake and with that done and out of the way, it was time to move on to second step.

He tidied up their table by putting the frosting back in the fridge, and then turned his focus to the tiny, colourful shakers he'd brought out earlier. Some were of only one colour while others were more vibrant, consisting of every colour of the rainbow. With how small they were, they were only about the size of a typical salt-and-pepper shaker. Inside them was an assortment of sprinkles and sugars that were shaped as all sorts of things like stars, swirls, animals, hearts, letters, numbers, flowers and even smiley faces. Any kind of design, pattern or motif a customer wished to have included with their purchase was bound to be in one of these decorative bottles. She wasn't quite sure how Peeta wanted them placed on the cake, or if he preferred them in certain spots.

"Put them wherever you like," he said, popping off the top of one shaker and sprinkling a few near the cake's center. "Top bottom, sides, doesn't matter. I always like to do things a little random when I'm baking for fun anyway. Obviously I can't do that with the cakes that people would buy, especially if it's for a special occasion, but when it's just me eating it, half the time I'm so hungry I throw on some frosting and sprinkles and that's good enough for me." He then chuckled and added, "Besides, it all goes down the same way, right?"

She let out a laugh at that assertion and said, "Yeah, makes sense. Alright...random it is then."

When the cake was finally complete, it was a scrumptious-looking luxury with chocolate frosting, hundreds of sprinkles and topped off with juicy, tangy strawberries. It was done up in multi-coloured rings that combined a range of the sprinkles and in the center were so many that it looked almost like a rainbow. Dotted around the edges were the chunks of strawberries and the very look of them got Katniss's mouth watering all over again. Peeta had all but one last thing he wanted to do before confirming that it was officially done. He took out a pink icing tube and positioned it on top of the cake.

"Care to have something written on it?" he requested with a smile.

"Sure. Did you have anything in mind?"

"I did actually," he said and immediately got to work. It was clear that Peeta knew what he was doing because it only took him a minute or two before he'd finished writing it. When he stepped aside so Katniss could take a look, she just laughed and shook her head as if she hadn't expected him to write what he'd written. It was so simple, yet it was an absolutely fitting title.

"Peeta and Katniss's Cake?" she told him, unable to stop laughing. "That's not very original!"

"Sure it is," he threw back, amused by her reaction. "How many cakes have you seen around here that have _'Peeta and Katniss's Cake'_ written on them?"

"Well...none," she admitted, and when Peeta gave her another one of his adorable grins she couldn't hide the flush of red showing on her cheeks. There was no denying that he'd seen it, but he only gave her a warm smile and said, "Wanna head upstairs?"

"Shouldn't we do up the dishes?" she asked. There were certainly a lot of pots, pans and utensils that needed a good washing, scrubbing and drying, but he only shook his head as if it weren't a problem.

"That's okay," said Peeta. "I'll do all that later. It never takes me that long to clean up anyway. Besides, this study date's far from over. We've still a cake to eat and more notes to go over."

While Peeta took the dessert and Katniss carried two plates, forks and a cutting knife, they made their way upstairs where he led her into the living room. He gestured for her to take a seat wherever she liked, and she chose to sit in a comfortable-looking loveseat. The cushions and pillows were both soft enough and she could have envisioned herself stretched out catching some z's on a sofa this comfy. She took a quick, curious look around at the place and in those few seconds decided that the place seemed pretty cozy, but then returned her attention to Peeta. He set the plate down on the table and took a seat in the loveseat as well while reaching down and pulling up his bag. He opened it, dug inside and got out his binder and textbook. He rummaged through and finding the notes he was looking for, put them next to Katniss's. It was then that he noticed that her eyes weren't focused on the papers – they were entirely on the cake.

"Can we have some now?" she asked hungrily.

Peeta thought for a moment and then said calmly, "No."

That wasn't what she wanted to hear. "What do you mean _no_?" she asked, confused, and a bit impatiently. "I thought that's what we made it for? To eat while we study?"

"It was," said Peeta. "But we _really_ should get some more studying done first. Don't want to start stuffing my face with chocolate and then not want to keep going with math. How about this? We'll study for an hour and _then_ have some cake."

"Fine," she grumbled, and Peeta couldn't resist from laughing at her eagerness.

"Don't worry," he said reassuringly. "The cake's not going anywhere." He then asked more seriously while flipping through the pile of notes, "So we already went over factoring, dividing and multiplying binomials and polynomials, so what should we go over now? Variables? Linear equations? Slopes and intercepts?"

"Let's pick one of the trickier topics," she suggested. "Variables?"

"Sounds good to me," said Peeta.

So the two went ahead and reviewed all the notes and key points they'd written down in class since the first day of school. They began by comparing notes and adding tips to their own and then moved forward with making up questions and getting the other to answer them. They also challenged each other to see who could speed through an equation faster and in all, they flew through quite a few of them. The ones they copied from their text and re-solved included:

Questions:

3x = 2x + 1

.4x = .2 (.6x) – 4

y / 2 + ¼ = y / 6

2x + 2y – 3 = 3 and 5x – 2y + 9 = 10

17x – 5y = 34 and 20x + 20y – 9 = 31

2x – 6 = 5x + 18

3x + 24 = 3 (x + 8)

5 – 6y = 2 (-3y) +1

Evaluate the expression when 3x + y² - z when x = 4, y = 6, z = 8

Is 2 a solution of 5x – 3 = x + 5?

Answers:

x = 1

x = -100/7

y = -3/4

x = 1, y = 2 solution is (1 , 2)

x = 2, y = 0 solution is (2 , 0)

x = -8

x = all real numbers

no solution

40

Yes

Peeta wasn't surprised when Katniss devoured one problem after another and the fact that she didn't get a single one wrong was even less of a surprise. For a girl like her, it was as easy as one two and as an expert in mathematics, it wasn't common that she ever lost her train of thought, second guessed herself or let her thinking process freeze up during tests. Peeta got most of his right, and the few ones that he'd struggled with, Katniss went through them and pointed out what he'd missed or overlooked. She'd let him know if he'd plugged in a wrong number, hadn't completely simplified or shown all of his work or if one of his answers hadn't mirrored what she'd worked out. In all, they covered four topics by spending fifteen minutes on each but when it was all done and they'd answered multiple questions, it was obvious that Katniss was tired of waiting.

"I'd say we covered just about everything. How about we celebrate?"

"Yeah, that cake does look pretty tasty. Those strawberries and chocolate frosting are the perfect combination and we did work pretty hard, so I think it's cake time."

"Finally!" she said excitedly, and her eyes were still eyeing the cake with that same intensity he'd seen from her when she'd been presented with her mouth-watering lunch.

Peeta whistled and guffawed, "Someone's hungry."

"Starving. I know I like math but it's pretty hard to keep focused when there's a giant cake on the table right in front of you."

"What a relief then that we're done, huh?"

"I'll say."

She stood up and got herself a plate and fork and wasting no time, began to cut herself a slice of cake. Peeta remained sitting, as he wasn't in so much of a hurry. He liked watching Katniss and the hungry, fervent look in her eyes that told him she was dying to try it and couldn't wait a second longer. When she'd gotten her piece, he quickly helped himself to one and flopped down next to her. The smell of the chocolate was drifting up to his nose like some sweet smell but while it was deliciously tempting, his eyes were still on his girlfriend. Before he took even a single bite of this double-layered chocolate smothered confectionary, he wanted to watch how rapidly her expression changed.

With her eyes the size of golf balls, Katniss shoved her fork into the cake on her plate and raised it to her mouth. She chewed, swallowed and closed her eyes as she let out a satisfied, " _Mmmmm_." Just as Peeta had presumed, her face had now taken on the look of a person who'd taken a short, but lovely vacation to paradise. The tone in her voice had told him that much but with the corners of her lips curving upward, anyone could have seen she was now sitting directly on cloud nine itself.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Peeta chuckled.

"This is _amazing_ ," she told him flat out. "The frosting, strawberries, sprinkles everything. It's all perfect."

"Not bad if I do say so myself," he said cheerily. "Then again, I had you as my assistant. Couldn't have done it without you."

"Oh, please," she said, taking another bite. "You've made hundreds of cakes. Hands down you could've made this one on your own too. All I did was crack some eggs, grease a pan and help with some frosting. You could have done all that with your eyes closed and in half the time it took me."

"Nope," he told her. "I needed your help with this one. If not for you, this cake would have never been the same."

"Why's that?"

"Because it's _Peeta and Katniss's Cake_?" he said, beaming. "Remember?"

"Oh, yeah," she said giving him a grin. "Almost forgot. Guess I should have—" but she stopped what she'd been going to say and instead burst out laughing. Peeta stared at her curiously, more than a little puzzled at why she'd broken out laughing so unexpectedly.

"What's so funny?"

"It's your—" but she only ended up laughing even harder. She didn't even try to finish her sentence because she knew the fit of laughter would have only gotten worse.

"I insist to know what's so funny!" he said firmly, but playfully. "Tell me this instant or I might just have to steal that cake from you. And don't think I won't because I unquestionably will. I'll even take the rest of the cake for myself and not leave you any crumbs. So if you don't want that to happen, I'd be wise and tell me what got you laughing."

"Your...your face," she blurted out, on the verge of laughing yet again. She had to briefly clamp her hand over her mouth before revealing what she'd found so uproarious. "You've got chocolate _all_ over your lips!"

"Ah, I get it," said Peeta with a wide smile. "So I've got chocolate lips then?"

"Pretty much," was her answer. "And I'm not even kidding. Your whole lips are brown and sitting here staring at you, I gotta be honest...you look like you fell in the mud and forgot to wipe off the sludge on your mouth. Or you're wearing some kind of lipstick but last time I checked, I never saw you walking around wearing lipstick."

"Mug and lipstick, huh? It's really that bad?"

"Yeah."

"My whole lips?"

"Yes."

"Guess I'd better fix that," said Peeta resolutely and he was just about to lick it off, when Katniss stopped him and said, "Wait."

"You like how it looks?" he asked jokingly. "I never put much thought into coating my lips in chocolate but if you think it suits me, maybe I'll do it more often."

"I was actually wondering if you'd like some help with it."

Peeta watched her expression, trying to figure out what she meant and it hit him instantly. He continued staring at her and though she hadn't even moved yet, he felt the familiar tingling of butterflies that fluttered in his stomach and it was something that _only_ happened when he was around Katniss. He would have kept staring at her for as long as she'd allow if she hadn't slowly started inching her way closer to him. The sensation inside him was beginning to intensify and he figured if she got any closer to him, his whole body would explode in a matter of seconds. Not only was the feeling of physical embrace a thing that left both his mind and body mesmerized, but the anticipation of them coming together did just that as well. It was knowing their lips felt overpowering desire for the other's that triggered the flutter of a thousand butterflies and roused exhilaration of what was to come.

As Katniss moved in closer, Peeta simply held his gaze on hers and without a word she took his face in both of her hands. Igniting inside him was that spark of electricity that made him wish he could put a stopper on time and relish in these moments where the world was theirs. There must have been some vigorous energy in the tips of her fingers because having them resting on his face felt somehow rejuvenating. Putting into words what her touch was like could have taken days but if asked to sum it all up, he would have said something along the lines of, "I feel younger, more alive, more vivacious and ten times more energized."

Caressing his cheek lightly, Katniss lowered her eyes to his plump, ample lips and feeling that the burning passion was too much to handle, she claimed them as her own. The warmth and softness of his lips that she'd experienced yesterday down at the lake was washing over her once again. Only this time, the fire was growing and as she sat there kissing Peeta Mellark, nothing else seemed to matter; all she cared about was getting as close to him as possible. Like Peeta, the intriguing sensation of their lips coming into contact did so many things to her – her legs turned to jelly, her mind went spiralling in every direction, the pounding in her heart grew so loud she could hear it echoing in her ears and an uncontrollable release of emotions took place. Along with the familiar taste of his lips came the sweet chocolate that covered them, which she had taken care of within seconds. Brushing her lips against his, the sweet taste washed all over her but this delicious taste couldn't equate with everything else.

It wasn't long till she felt him smiling and while the chocolate no longer remained on his lips, she couldn't bring herself to pull away. Just like at the lake, all she could do was allow her lips, mind and body to speak the words she couldn't. She stroked his cheek fondly and gradually and at some point, she felt a pair of arms securing themselves around her waist. They stayed like this – Katniss with her hands on his face and his arms enveloped around her – as the kiss grew and set off a swelling of rapture and fervour. When their lips weren't pressed against the other's, there surfaced in them a sense of such emptiness, as if they'd become two halves that were meant to be joint in wholeness. Only when they rejoined did that hollowness change back into completeness. They were never apart for more than a few seconds but even that felt too long, and so they'd immerse themselves once more in a compellingly passionate kiss.

When she separated from him, they kept their foreheads against the other's for some while as if still rapt in the moment. Upon opening her eyes, was suddenly feeling bold and a tad curious and not wanting to ignore this, she inched even closer towards him. She wasn't a hundred percent clear why her body was moving itself but it plainly had a mind of its own. Was there any use attempting to fight against it? A part of her was convinced there wasn't. In the strangest way that she couldn't comprehend, an unusual hunger had arisen inside her. Where had it come from and why was it deciding to make itself known at that specific point in time? She couldn't begin to imagine why and by the stunned look that now crossed Peeta's face, she doubt he knew either. He didn't speak or question what she was doing but she could definitely tell by the inquiring look in his eyes that he too was curious.

It wasn't until Katniss had gently and carefully positioned herself on top of him – her hands still cupping his face as if unable to let go – that he had to interrupt.

"Katniss?" he whispered, and bit by bit her body was connecting with his in what was unfamiliar territory for them. He studied her face for a clue that might signify what could be rushing through her head, but came up empty. Her grey eyes were just as alluringly dark, her lips seemed to speak out to him in the faintest murmur but still her face was a puzzle to him.

"Yeah?" she asked, her voice also in a whisper.

By now, she had her legs wrapped comfortably around his hips, her arms were draped around his neck and his arms held her in his grasp. Up till then, they hadn't known what it was like to feel so close, to feel their bodies meeting in what was so physically and emotionally stimulating. Neither had been aware of what it could be like to have their bodies so close but in a short amount of time, they'd become acquainted with this new and pleasurable sensation.

"I...I thought we wanted to take things _slow_?" Peeta reminded her, his gaze fixated on hers.

"I-I do," she said, her hand trailing once more from his cheeks down to his neck where she felt exhilarating warmth radiating against her skin. "This just...feels right. I can't really explain it."

Peeta nodded and asked her earnestly, "But are you okay being like this? You don't mind this? We're not moving too quickly are we because if you're not comfortable like this or you you'd rather stop, we can?"

"No," she said softly, and continued stroking his neck. "No, I don't mind it. I kind of like it."

"I do too," he said with sincerity. "But you know you could always tell me to stop if you didn't want to keep going and—"

"I don't want to stop," she said almost breathlessly. "I'm alright with us being like this, but...but I think this is as far as I want to go."

He nuzzled his forehead against hers, smiled and murmured, "No need to rush. Whatever you're comfortable with, I am. And if you haven't yet noticed, just spending time with you is all I'd ever need to be happy."

"Oh, I noticed."

"Really?" His voice sounded overly shocked but she knew he was only goofing.

"Yes."

"When did you notice?"

"When you told me you loved me, silly." She then wordlessly averted her gaze to between his legs and added in a hushed tone, "And when I felt your, uh...friend down below."

A few seconds was all it took for him to know what she meant by this. There was no need to come straight out and say it in simpler terms; he understood exactly what she was referring to. Even if she hadn't mentioned 'down below', still he would have caught on to what she was hinting at. To say he was embarrassed wouldn't have quite covered it because it went far beyond that.

"I-I'm so sorry," he stammered sheepishly. His face had gone from its usual pale to beet red and spreading from his cheeks to all over his body was immediate warmth. "I-I didn't think that would happen or—"

"It's okay," she said, not sounding or appearing too bothered by his body's instinctive response. "It's not a big deal."

"I, uh, I really didn't mean for that to happen," Peeta apologized, his cheeks glowing redder than ever. "I-It's just one of those things I...uh...can't always control as it sort of—"

"Has a mind of its own?" she said, unable to keep from lightly chuckling.

"Well, yeah," he admitted but then quickly asked, "A-are you sure it doesn't bother you though? We don't have to stay like this."

"No, really, it's fine," she told him. "Besides, I learned all about that stuff in health class so let's just say I have some knowledge on male anatomy. Sort of hard not to learn about it when it's taught in schools and you get tested on it. Once you get to junior high, they pretty much drill all things sex-related into your head.'

"So you know what happens when—"

"Oh, I know what goes on down there," she interjected, the corners of her lips curving upward. "You don't have to explain about your friend. Like I said, I've learned more than I thought I would about the male reproductive system. I'm not a stranger to how it operates."

"I-I'm still embarrassed though," he said, and Katniss could make out the cherry red flushed on his cheeks. "I didn't mean for that to happen."

"Really, Peeta, it's fine. You shouldn't be sorry over something your body does. It's not like you have a whole lot of control over it anyway."

The two then proceeded to melt once more into the other's arms, their lips coming together in a hypnotic dance. Wrapped in the comforting arms of the other, it was like time itself was no longer existent. All their thoughts and focus were on the other and it wasn't long till they felt their own budding emotions exploding wildly.

Without a word, Katniss moved her hands back up to his face where she ran them through the mass of golden blond hair that felt so soft in her fingers. Peeta seemed to almost forget where he was or what was happening, as if Katniss being this close to him felt more like a dream than the reality that it was. He lifted his hands up and put them on her waist and before he had time to think much else, her lips were on his once again. He brushed them against hers and relished in the amazing fact that after so many years of waiting, Katniss Everdeen was finally his.

It was when they drew apart that Peeta chuckled quietly, "We won't get much studying done if we keep _this_ up."

Katniss gave a smile and assured him, "We will. I just...wanted us to _enjoy_ this."

Peeta rested his forehead against hers, closed his eyes and said affectionately, "I loveyou, Katniss." The love and passion in his voice made Katniss was to melt simply because everything he said, every word he spoke was nothing but the truth. He _loved_ her.

She was all too quick to respond, "I love you too, Peeta. I know I've already said this, but I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"Don't apologize," he told her, gently running his hand down her back. Shivers went up her spine and all she could think was that the only place she wanted to be right then was with Peeta.

"Better get studying," he smiled.

She lifted herself off of him and the two went back to studying and spent the rest of the afternoon reading and reviewing notes. After spending an entire afternoon focusing on algebra, both felt they were as ready as they could be for Monday's test. It was around six o'clock that Katniss had to be heading home, and Peeta had to get started on cleaning up the dishes.

As she stood by the door with her bag over her shoulder, Peeta felt he couldn't spend enough time with her, as if the time they did spend together just wasn't enough.

"Thanks for coming over," he said sincerely. "It's great having a partner to study with."

"No problem," said Katniss. "Maybe we'll study together for tests from now on."

Peeta gave her a smile, wrapped her in a tight hug and said, "I'd like that."

A few moments later, after he'd given her a kiss goodbye, she was out the door and on her way home. He wished the two could meet up to study again tomorrow, but both had plans and since they'd be busy for almost the entire day, they couldn't squeeze in any last bit of studying.

It only took Peeta about twenty minutes to get the dishes washed, dried and put away. Before he knew it, his parents and two brothers were home and the five had a late supper. Feeling tired and in need of a good sleep, Peeta went up to his room and jumped into bed. He was all ready to doze off and head into dreamland when the screaming voice of the hawk came crawling into his head. He tried to ignore it and convince himself he was hearing things...but it was far from the truth. Gale's furious shouting had invaded his mind and along with that came the sharp, killer talons of the vicious creature. The beating wings that so desperately reached out to grab a hold of him never stopped flapping. Worst of all, the madness and insanity of the hawk's glaring, unblinking eyes was truly haunting. Luckily, he fell asleep fast enough and was relieved to find himself in pleasant, enjoyable visions where Katniss was constantly by his side...and the hawk was nowhere to be seen. On and off the encounters with this monster unfolded but to his utter relief, tonight there'd be no fleeing from imminent death.

When Monday rolled around and the test had been written, both Peeta and Katniss felt confident that they'd done well. When the results came back that Thursday, Peeta was rewarded with a B+ and Katniss received an A. The studying and reviewing of notes had definitely paid off, and Peeta was starting to feel more confident that maybe he could end the semester with an A in math.

Later that day while Peeta was browsing the web on his phone, he got a sudden message from Katniss. It read: _Hey, Peeta. There's a game with a bunch of our friends going on tomorrow at Glimmer's place. She's throwing a party and Madge, Johanna, Glimmer, Clove, Cato and Marvel are gonna be there. They wanted me to ask if you'd be interested in playing. I wasn't sure if I wanted to at first, but, what the heck? It's just a game._

Wondering what kind of game it would be, he texted back with: _Sure. What's the game?_

 _Truth or Dare_.


	25. Chapter 25

**CHAPTER 25**

 **OCTOBER**

When Friday had rolled around and the school day was officially done, Peeta and Katniss hopped in the back seat of Glimmer's car which was bright pink, considering how girly and fashion-obsessed of a girl Glimmer was. Also with them were Johanna and Madge. A party was being held at Glimmer's that day and they pretty much had the rest of the afternoon and part of the evening to themselves since both her parents had gone out for the day. It was always an exciting time when Glimmer threw a party because as most people knew, no one in the school put on a show quite like her. That night, however, wasn't meant to be one of her usual, invite-as-many-people-as-you-can kind of event. She had a set number of people that she'd invited that consisted of Madge, Johanna, Cato, Clove, Marvel, Katniss and Peeta. She'd wanted to invite Delly, but was told by Peeta that she was away for the weekend with her parents and wouldn't be returning till Monday.

When they were all in the car, Glimmer looked back to Katniss and asked, "Oh, yeah. Forget to tell you that Gale asked to come as well."

"Gale?" she said, sounding somewhat surprised.

"He texted me last minute saying he wanted to come. Said he didn't want to miss out on such an awesome time. You're still friends with him, right?"

"Yeah, we're still friends" she said slowly.

What she was really concerned with was the fact that Gale knew just like anyone else that she and Peeta were now together, yet he was claiming he wanted to come to this truth or dare event? The whole thing just seemed odd and confusing. For whatever reason Gale would _want_ to come to this event, she hadn't a clue. But the longer she thought about it, the more she came to the conclusion that maybe Gale really was starting to accept that she and Peeta were together and in love.

 _Maybe he really is gonna be okay with it_? _It might take him a while to truly be okay with it, but maybe coming to this truth or dare thing is his way of trying to be comfortable with the fact that I'm with Peeta?_

"You guys haven't been talking much," Madge said quietly. "Over the past few days, I mean." She of course knew that Katniss and Peeta were together and because she was friends with Gale, she practically knew the whole situation.

"Yeah, he's just trying to accept it and all," Katniss explained. "We still talk and stuff but I think he just needs some time to think things over, you know? Try and accept that I'm with Peeta. But we're still best friends. I know he's bothered with it but I know him well enough to know that he wouldn't call off our friendship just because I'm with somebody else.

"No, you're too good of friends with him for that," said Madge in agreement.

Peeta didn't say much but rather, let Katniss and Madge do the talking. It wasn't that he didn't feel like joining in, but it felt pretty awkward when the whole reason Gale had been and was still sometimes a raging fury and acting like that towards Katniss was because of him. The anger, jealousy and bitterness that was consuming Gale was completely because of Peeta and he felt the best thing he could do was keep quiet and when the time came...try not to look Gale in the eyes. He was afraid that if he did, he'd just be struck with more images of the screeching, ruthless hawk that was constantly attempting to rip his eyes out or tear him to shreds with its razor talons.

 _It's just your imagination_ , he convinced himself. _Try and not worry so much. If Katniss says that Gale's calmed down and he's starting to feel okay about the whole thing then maybe she's right. Maybe Gale really is gonna be okay with this_.

When they were pulling up to Glimmer's house, they saw Cato and the others had already arrived. Cato was standing next to his car and with him were Marvel, Clove and Gale. When Glimmer got out of her car, she walked over to them and was immediately followed by Madge, Johanna, Katniss and Peeta. Katniss made brief eye contact with Gale while Peeta simply kept his eyes on either everyone else or the ground.

"Hey!" Glimmer said excitedly. "Glad you could come."

"Well, I'm not one to miss out on a party," grinned Cato. "But I'm sure you already know that, don't you Glim? You know how much of a trouble-maker I am."

"Oh, we _all_ know that," laughed Johanna. "Don't have to remind us. Go to a party and expect to find Cato there."

"Hey, Catnip," said Gale, giving a fake smile. It might have been absolutely fake in every sense, but he was presenting himself in such a way where Katniss never would have suspected anything unusual.

 _And of course you'll fall for it_ , he thought sneakily. _Just like all the others._

"Hey Gale," she smiled. "Glad you could make it."

"So you're up for a party huh?" he asked with a playful smirk.

She shrugged and said, "I wasn't doing anything else, so I figured why not? And it's truth or dare. That's always...interesting."

"Sure is," laughed Gale. "Interesting indeed."

"How about you, Peeta?" said Gale. He locked his grey eyes on Peeta's bright blue ones and in that one second, Peeta saw the raging hawk reaching out to snatch him up with its killer talons. Its wings were beating furiously and its knife-like beak was desperately trying to jab at his eyes and make him go blind with one simple swipe.

"Didn't want to miss out," was all Peeta could say. He was somehow able to keep his voice calm and normal, and that in itself felt like an accomplishment. He was always an expert with words but when it came to Gale, he felt a bit shaky and unsteady. Speaking with the guy that had been his girlfriend's best friend for four years was still a thing he felt somewhat intimidated by. He knew by the way Katniss went on about Gale and the way he raved about her that the two were close and the last thing he wanted was to get on this guy's bad side, and wind up in a serious fight with him.

 _Calm down, Mellark!_ thought Peeta while fighting to keep from backing away. _Just your head again. Gale's obviously_ _not as angry or upset about it as you thought he'd be. And Katniss is here so everything's alright. You just gotta stop worrying so much. Then maybe you'll stop seeing all these freaky images_. _They're not even real! You're just letting it happen because you're scared Gale's gonna try and do something bad. But he's not going to, so stay calm and have fun. Remember...he's her best friend! He's a guy she trusts._

"Course you _wouldn't_ ," Gale chuckled, and Peeta could hear the venom in his voice that only _he_ could hear. To everyone else, it was all but invisible. But Peeta felt for sure he'd heard the venom in his voice...or maybe he really wasimagining it and panicking too much. At that moment, his head was in too many places to truly make out what he was seeing or what he was hearing. It was all one jumbled, complicated mess that he just couldn't seem to make sense of no matter how hard he tried.

 _You're not doing a very good job at calming down, Peeta_. _And we haven't even gotten in the house yet. It's gonna be a long night if you don't try harder at this. I know he seemed angry before, but you gotta put that aside and leave it in the past. It's over now, he seems to be okay with Katniss and I being together, so try and get along with him._

"Alright, let's get inside!" said Glimmer eagerly, and led the group into the house.

For an hour or two, the nine of them spent their time listening to music, eating what unique, tasty treats Glimmer had prepared for them and generally doing what most did at parties. Since it was still mid-afternoon, neighbours didn't mind a bit of loud music but come night-time, if it was still blaring loudly then one wouldn't hesitate to call and complain. Most people didn't like to complain but they also didn't like to have to try and get some sleep with the constant, booming sound of music blasting in their ears. But this wouldn't be a problem because they only planned on partying for the first hour or two but after that, they'd get to the real fun of the event which was truth or dare.

While Peeta and Katniss were having some fun dancing, they caught sight of Johanna approaching them. Gale was off chatting with Cato and Marvel but every now and then he'd shift his gaze over to Katniss dancing with Peeta and the undeniable look of happiness on her face.

Peeta was just twirling Katniss around and expertly pulling her back into his arms when Johanna said slyly, "Havin' a good time lovebirds?"

Peeta nodded. He didn't catch the mischievous gleam in Johanna's eye.

"So how long have you two been going out?" she asked curiously. "A week, right?"

"That's right," said Peeta, focusing more on where he moved his feet than Johanna's questions.

"Don't you think it's time you two had a bit more fun?" she grinned.

"Define 'fun'," said Peeta, giving her a serious, slightly suspicious look. _What are you thinking Johanna? Well, there's a grin on your face so that can't be good._

"Wouldn't you like to see _all_ of Miss Everdeen?" she said bluntly, but teasingly. "You know...what's under allthose _clothes_? Get what I'm saying?"

" _Johanna!_ " snapped Peeta. He shot her an annoyed, but embarrassed look and no one could miss the deep shade of red now showing on his cheeks. He was just thankful and _extremely_ relieved that nothing noticeable was showing from underhis _pants._

 _Thank goodness for that_ , thought Peeta, his mind immediately relaxing. _What are you trying to do to me anyway, Johanna?_ _Completely embarrass_ _me in front of_ _everyone_? _You keep talking like that and you'll definitely succeed!_

"Hey, just saying," she said casually. "You think you two would want a bit more fun?"

"Yeah, well, we've decided we'd like to take things slowly," Peeta told her. "Don't want to rush into things we aren't _ready_ for." He then broke out in an amused smile and said, "I'm sure that disappoints _you_ , though, doesn't it?"

"No, not really," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. She crept closer to Peeta, leaned into his ear and said in joking whisper, "But I know what you _really_ want, Peeta. What you want more than anything is to get right down to it and—"

" _Alright!_ " said Peeta, giving her a light shove. "That's _enough_ from you, Johanna!"

"Not done yet, Mellark," she said quickly. She then let out a slight chuckle, pointed down and said in amusement, "Forgot to remind you that you might just want to take care of a little problem that's growing between your—"

"Johanna!" Peeta chastised. _You really do want to embarrass me to the max, don't you? Why do guys have to be such easy targets for stuff like this anyway?_

"Okay, okay!" she said, putting her hands up and turning the other way. "Just thought I'd let you know." She gave them one of her usual, amused winks and left to see who else she could stir up some fun, but naughty trouble with.

"Don't worry," Peeta called to her. "I'll be fine."

With his cheek glowing bright red, he turned his attention back to Katniss and chuckled lightly, "Oh, the things she'll say..."

Katniss gave a smile in return and said with a roll of her eyes, "Only Johanna. Will tease everyone and anyone."

"She's pretty good at it too," Peeta pointed out.

"She is," said Katniss. "Especially since she's a mind reader and can pretty much figure out what your weakness is."

"She knows what mine is, that's for sure," said Peeta. "Though I think she's always known what mine is."

"And what's that?" asked Katniss.

With a smile that was filled with both shyness and sincerity, Peeta told her adoringly, "You."

About two hours later, the nine of them were in Glimmer's upstairs living room sitting in a wide circle. Peeta and Katniss were of course sitting next to one another and Peeta knew without a doubt that Gale was screaming inside at the sight of them. He was sitting next to Johanna, who was always an interesting person to have conversations with but right then, he didn't care. Whenever he could, he stole looks of hatred at Peeta Mellark but was quick as lightning to glance away if Katniss looked in his direction.

"Well," said Clove, staring around, not looking or sounding the least bit nervous. "Where should we start Glimmer?"

"I was thinking we'd do three rounds," Glimmer explained. "The first round will be nothing but gross. The second will be random. Whatever you think of, just throw it out there. And the third round is when things will start heating up a bit."

"Hmm, sounds intriguing," said Johanna. "Care to elaborate on that?"

"Oh, sure," said Glimmer casually and with a devious smile, said, "Round three will be all things... _sexual_."

"Oh no!" said Marvel in mock fear.

This earned an amused laugh from Cato, which caused Marvel to laugh and soon the whole group was guffawing. All Peeta and Katniss did was give each other a quiet look, but even they let out a small chuckle. The only one who didn't laugh for long was Gale. As soon as he noticed Katniss and Peeta eyeing each other, his gaze turned razor sharp and the hawk inside him was begging to get its pointed claws on bread boy and make a meal out of him. But like always, this sudden fit of rage ended just as quickly as it began and once again he was calm and with a smile on his face.

Johanna nodded and said, "Perfect. Let's get this started then."

Peeta gave Katniss a friendly nudge and whispered in her ear, "I bet you anything they're gonna try and make ours the worst, since we're together and all. Better get ready."

"Oh, I will," she assured him, keeping her voice low. "Count on it."

"Hey, Glimmer," said Clove. "Mind if I go first?"

"Sure, whatever," said Glimmer. "Start off with something good, okay? Remember...think gross."

Clove gave a sly smirk and turned to Glimmer and said, "Glimmer. Truth or Dare?"

"You gotta be kidding me," said Glimmer with a groan, but answered, "Uhh...dare."

"Lovely," said Clove. "Stick your finger between your toes, then in both your armpits, and then lick it."

Cato and Marvel both burst out laughing and kept their eyes on Glimmer while waiting for her reaction.

"Oh, is that it?" she said, sounding like it was simple. "That's nothing."

"Then go ahead and do it," said Clove.

All eyes were now on Glimmer. She gave another groan that clearly told everyone that she was grossed out, but she didn't back down. She lowered her fingers down to her toes and while scrunching up her face, she placed her fingers between her toes. The look on her face was all too hilarious and when she had to proceed to putting them under her armpits, Cato and Marvel started hooting with excitement. Peeta and Katniss watched and all they could wonder was, " _What's coming for_ _us_?"

Hesitating only for a second, Glimmer stuck her fingers inside her mouth and kept them there for the few seconds that Clove had demanded and then yanked them out.

" _Ewwww_ ," she grumbled.

"Well done, Glim," said Clove with a smirk.

"My turn now!" said Glimmer and looked straight to Cato. "Hello Cato. Truth or Dare?"

"You think I'm scared of a stupid dare?" he challenged boldly. "Bring it on."

"Alrighty then," said Glimmer. "Be right back."

When she'd returned, she was holding a spoon which she put in the center of the circle.

"I want everyone to spit on that spoon which Cato will then rub all over his forehead."

"That's the best you've got?" said Cato. "Alrighty, guys. Spit away."

As Glimmer went around the circle holding the spoon out, each of them took turns spitting onto it while Cato sat there looking bored and as if he was actually looking _forward_ to it. He tapped his fingers on the wooden floor while waiting in silence. That wasn't a surprise. It was rare that Cato ever showed signs of fear, discomfort or intimidation. In a word, he was the definition of badass.

When he held the spoon out in front of him, he gave her a wink and took the spoon. He raised it to his forehead and with an actual smile on his head he began to rub it all over his skin. It was wet, gooey, disgusting, and Cato was smiling.

"Rub it in good, Cato," teased Johanna. "Don't be shy."

"Oh, I'm not," he assured her. He then commented, "I _love_ the feel of spit."

"Yeah, I'm sure you do," laughed Marvel, nudging him in the shoulder. "Bet you would've eaten the stuff if Glimmer dared you to."

"You know it," was all Cato said.

A few seconds later, he lowered the spoon and dropped it on the floor.

"So...now it's my turn," said Cato. His forehead was now covered in the wet spit but by the way he acted, one would have thought he'd rubbed sweet sugar on his skin. "Let's see. Who should I pick on?"

He scanned the circle eagerly, searching for his victim and then his eyes fell on Hawthorne.

"Gale," he announced finally. "You up for some fun?"

"You know I am," was his answer.

"Great," said Cato. "Truth or dare then?"

"Let's keep the pattern going," said Gale boldly. "Dare."

"Dare it is then," said Cato. He pulled a penny out of his pocket and held it up for Gale to see. "Here's your dare then: Go push this penny around on a toilet seat...with your tongue."

Gale got up, walked over to Cato and took the penny out of his hand. He gave a quick look around at everyone else and then started off towards to the bathroom.

"Let's go then," he called back to them. "Don't want to miss it."

In a minute, Gale was on his knees in front of the bathroom toilet with the penny already in place. Standing around him were Madge, Johanna, Glimmer, Clove, Cato, Marvel, Peeta and Katniss and they were all ready for an amusing show. Peeta wasn't smiling, however. He knew if the hawk caught him even smiling a little bit, then he'd most likely risk getting a nasty punch to the head later on when nobody was watching.

"Alright, Hawthorne," said Cato crossing his arms and giving an amused smile. "Show us whatcha got."

Hardly a few seconds had gone by before Gale had his head dropped and his tongue out. He then began pushing the penny around the seat while being careful not to let it slide over the edge. While most stood laughing and pointing at the hilarious sight, Peeta was frozen in place when he saw Gale's head suddenly whip around. Gone was the face of Hawthorne. In its place were the beady, unblinking eyes of the hawk and its beak was open in a raging screech. No one else could see the fury...but Peeta could. The hawk didn't want the others to see. The transformation of Gale into the monster bird was a thing meant _only_ for Peeta.

 _Bet you're loving this, aren't ya, Mellark?_ _Well guess what, Bread Boy? You got_ _yours_ _comin' later and it's gonna be a lot worse than whatever these guys got planned for ya. The hell with this Truth or Dare shit...you're gettin'_ _worse_ _. So much worse. You just wait till Katniss is gone, the others are gone and you and your vulnerable self are all alone. Then you'll see._

Peeta heard the voice of the hawk fading, but not before it gave one last hiss of: _What I wouldn't give to just stick your worthless little head in this thing and flush you into nothing._

 _It's nothing, Peeta,_ _he thought and fought to keep from closing his eyes._ _Just another trick of the mind. Gale's right here completing his dare. That's all. There's no hawk at all. Just your mind trying to scare you and get you worried all over again_ _._

When Gale had finished his dare, he took the penny off the toilet and held it out for the others to see. He chuckled and said, "Bet you're all dying to get your hands on it after seeing me do that."

"I'll pass thanks," said Johanna.

"Your turn Gale," said Marvel. "Who you gonna pick for the next torture?"

"Oh, that's easy," said Gale with a cunning grin. He paused only briefly before revealing who he had in mind.

"Johanna," said Gale, and turned to her while still wearing that cunning grin on his face. "So what'll it be? Truth or dare?"

"You think I'm gonna stop the wicked pattern we got going on?" she shot back. "Dare."

"I think I've got just the right thing for you," Gale told her.

"And what's that, Hawthorne?" she said, sounding bored.

"Well, since you're so fond of dogs and all," Gale went on. "How about you show us all how much you really love dogs by eating some dog food? Surely that's not a problem for you."

"Can't be any worse than touching a dirty, filthy old penny with your tongue," she reckoned casually. "Care to get the chow, Glimmer?"

"I'd _love_ to."

When Glimmer returned with a plate covered with a couple of dog treats, Johanna stared down at them and licked her lips hungrily. The others watched curiously and were dying to see how she was going to pull off not revealing just how nasty the stuff would taste.

"Watch and learn, folks," she said and wasted no time in lifting the plate up to her face and picking off one of the treats. Once it was in her mouth, she spent a few seconds chewing and she shut her eyes for only a moment before swallowing and moving on to the next ones. There was no stopping this gal. Before anyone knew, the entire plate of food had been devoured and Johanna had barely shown signs of disgust.

"Thanks for that, Gale," she said with a victorious smile. "Nothin' like a bit of grub."

"Anytime," said Gale with a smirk.

"And now to my turn," said Johanna, rubbing her hands together with excitement. "Let's see. How about you, Clove? You're sitting there awfully quiet? Let's see what I can do for you. Truth or dare?"

"Dare," said Clove without hesitation.

"Man, this'll be sweet," said Johanna deviously. "Alright, Clove. For this dare, I'd like you to lick peanut butter from someone else's toes."

"Whose toes?" asked Clove.

"Cato's," was Johanna's answer.

"Oh, _God_ ," Clove muttered, and then said a bit louder, "That guy's feet probably _stink_."

"That they do, Clove," laughed Cato, obviously amused by Clove's reaction. "That they do. Thank God it's you doing the licking and not me because personally, I don't really feel like running my tongue all over someone's toes right now. You have fun with it though!"

"Oh, don't worry," said Clove sarcastically. "I will."

"I'll get the peanut butter!" said Glimmer excitedly.

Madge leaned over to Katniss and told her, "Get ready. One of us will be next."

"Bet you anything we're gonna get the worst," Katniss answered.

"I'm sure of that," Peeta threw in. "What's the saying? Always save the best for last? Guess that's us."

"Let's hope they're not _too_ cruel with us," said Katniss.

"I wouldn't bet on that, Kat," said Madge. "Look what they've done _so_ far."

When Glimmer returned with the peanut butter and a butter knife, she began spreading drops of the gooey stuff in-between Cato's toes. She didn't just do one foot either. She did both. Clove watched with no expression but in her mind she was thinking: _y_ _ou gotta be kidding me!_

"There you go, Clove," said Cato, raising one of his feet and waving it at her. "They're all yours."

"I hope you wash those things," said Clove flatly.

Cato shrugged and said, "Don't matter. Either way, you gotta lick 'em. So get licking."

Clove gave him a dirty look but bent her head down so she was merely inches from his peanut-butter-covered toes. She wrinkled her nose and everyone could tell that she'd _really_ rather not have do this particular dare, but if she refused she'd just get faced with an even harder and even worse dare. So she sucked it up and got to work licking off the bits of peanut butter wedged between his toes. Luckily all she could smell was the peanut butter because the last thing she wanted hitting her nose was some nasty stench that only confirmed that Cato _was_ lazy when it came to washing his feet.

After a few minutes, the peanut butter had been licked entirely off Cato's toes and Clove had proven that not only did she kick ass at sports, she kicked ass at truth or dare as well.

"How about you, Marvel?" said Clove. "Wanna go next?"

"You know it."

"Alright then," said Clove. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare all the way man," said Marvel. "Gotta keep the pattern going. Now give me your worst."

"You'll probably hate me for this," said Clove slyly. "But I wanna see you squirm. Your dare is this: I want you to coat your tongue with pepper and then swallow it. _All_ of it."

Marvel shook his head and said, "You're bad."

"The worst," said Clove with a touch of arrogance.

When Glimmer walked into the room holding the pepper shaker, she gave Marvel a little wink. Once the dare was complete, it would join everything else on the table – the tub of peanut butter, the spoon that had held everyone's saliva, the plate with the dog food that had been polished clean by Johanna and the filthy, dirty penny that Gale had pushed around the toilet seat with his tongue.

Clove grabbed the pepper shaker and strode right up to Marvel.

"Open up wide," was all she said. "And say _ahhhhhh_."

"Uh, I'll pass on that last part," said Marvel flatly. But he opened his mouth, stuck his tongue out – without saying _ahhhh_ – and before he had time to re-think it, he felt the tiny specks dropping onto his tongue. Clove made sure to really coat Marvel's tongue good and not leave an inch of his tongue uncovered. Marvel sat there with his mouth wide open, not wanting to think about the truly unpleasant taste he was soon about to experience.

"Swallow!" Clove demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

As everyone sat watching quietly, Marvel gave Clove an annoyed glare but didn't back down and went ahead and did exactly that. Only a few seconds passed before a look of shock came over his face and he started gasping and coughing. He asked Clove if he could have a drink of water but she only refused and told him simply, "Sorry pal. That's not part of the dare."

"Man, that's bad," Madge said to Katniss. "I mean, licking peanut butter and eating dog food is gross, but to swallow _that_ much pepper? Yuck is all I have to say."

"Glad that's not my dare," Katniss replied.

"But ours could be worse," Peeta reminded her. "They haven't even gotten to us yet. Wonder what they've got in store for us?"

Katniss gave him a worried look and said, "Guess we're gonna find out."

"Katniss!"

Katniss glanced over and saw Marvel looking in her direction.

"I'm next huh?" she asked.

"Yup," said Marvel. "Truth or dare Everdeen?"

"Hope you guys don't mind if I break the pattern," she said, trying to sound bold. "But I think I'll go with truth for this one."

"Truth, is it?" said Marvel, and a mischievous grin was crossing his face. He gave Johanna a quick look and she too was wearing the same look of mischievousness.

"Hey, Glimmer," said Marvel suddenly. "Mind if I bend the rules a bit? I know you wanted gross for round one, but I was thinking maybe we'd make an exception. That okay?"

"Sure," she said casually. "Go for it. Do whatever you want."

 _Oh,_ _crap_ , was all Katniss could think. _Maybe I should have picked dare_.

"Oh, this'll be good," said Marvel, and the excitement was all too obvious in his voice. "Alright, Miss Everdeen. Here's what I'd like you to tell me and _remember!_ Give nothing but the truth."

"Just say it!" Katniss insisted. She wanted to get the truth over with as quickly and rapidly as possible. Marvel didn't wait any longer and cut right to the chase.

"Do you wanna have sex with _Peeta Mellark_?"

"Come on, Katniss!" said Johanna eagerly. "Out with it already, out with it! Don't keep us waiting!"

"Ooooh, she's turning red!" said Cato teasingly. "Can only mean _one_ thing, guys!"


	26. Chapter 26

**CHAPTER 26**

 **OCTOBER**

It was true. Katniss's face had gone obviously red and by the looks on everyone's faces, she'd gone _extremely_ red. The only three people who weren't throwing out remarks were Madge, Peeta and Gale. Madge was sitting on Katniss's left and gave her a quiet look of sympathy as if she could sense just how embarrassed her friend was. Peeta sat on her right and he too was just as quiet. He kept his eyes to the floor and hardly looked anyone in the eye for fear that they'd see that he too was glowing red in the face. Gale was silent as well and all he could do was keep his razor sharp glare on Peeta as he waited furiously for Katniss to reveal the truth...the truth that he already knew the answer to.

"She _definitely_ wants it!" said Glimmer, with the same excitement.

"Come on, Katniss," said Marvel, sounding impatient while he tapped his fingers against the floor. "We're waiting..."

Katniss knew she couldn't lie to them. She couldn't, especially not when she was sitting there with her cheeks so clearly red. How could she possibly begin to tell them what they knew would be an out and out lie? No, she had to go with what Marvel had demanded and that was the truth.

" _Yes_!" she blurted out and anyone could hear the embarrassment in her voice, as it was nearly impossible to miss. "I wanna have sex with him. But not _right_ now! Okay? Later on! Probably not for at least five years from now. Maybe even ten. Happy now?"

"Knew it!" Johanna whistled.

"And actually, I don't wanna have sex with him," she said thoughtfully. "One day I'd like to make love with him."

"What's the difference?" Johanna asked with a shrug. "Sex? Making love? Same thing."

"No it's not," Katniss argued. "Sex is just casual and happens with any two people but making love is between two people that are in love _._ They care about each other and wouldn't want to be with anyone else in the world. That's the difference."

 _You're right sweetheart_ , thought Peeta in agreement. _And one day, I would absolutely love to make love with you...but that's not for a long time_. _That's something we have to save till we're both completely ready. Let's stick with kissing for now, since you and I both seem to enjoy doing that._

"So if it's true," said Cato with a grin. "Does that mean we get to see some action?"

"I already told you I don't want to _right_ now," Katniss told him. "We _just_ started going out!"

Peeta had been silent up till now, but he couldn't let them embarrass his Katniss any more than necessary, so he spoke up and made sure to sound bold.

"No," said Peeta firmly. "If you want some action, then _you_ go make it happen _yourself_."

"Can't expect that from them, Cato," Johanna explained to him. "They both agreed that they want to take things slow. The most you'd be lucky to see from them is a bit of kissing."

"But where's the fun in _that_?" he asked.

"Really," Glimmer added.

"Not everyone wants to rush right into sex, guys," Madge threw in. "Maybe some of you guys don't mind it, but that's not the same for everyone."

"Yeah, but still," said Glimmer. "Maybe if they just—"

"Okay, guys," said Peeta, interrupting. He was desperate to get off the topic and could hardly imagine how embarrassed Katniss was feeling, so the least he could do was get them off the conversation entirely. It didn't help that he was pretty embarrassed himself. "Mind if we move onto the next person?"

"Alright," said Glimmer. "That'd be you, Katniss. It's your turn."

"Okay," said Katniss. "Guess there's only two people left to go: Madge and Peeta."

"Pick me," said Madge. "I'm curious to see what you'd get me to do."

"You it is then," said Katniss. "Truth or dare?"

"Let's get back to the dares," Madge suggested.

"Now I just gotta come up with a dare," she said, running ideas through in her head. "I got one. I'd like you to lick Marvel's ear. And if you want, get a bit bolder and stick your tongue right in his ear."

Madge smiled, shaking her head and said, "Thanks for that, Kat."

"Don't mention it, Madge," said Katniss with the smallest of a smile.

"Make sure to lick his ear _real_ good," said Johanna. "Get right in there."

Madge didn't respond to this. She was too busy rolling the idea around in her head that she had to lick a guy's ear _and_ shove her tongue inside it. That was pretty much all that was on her mind right then. It was when she had her head right next to Marvel's ear that she was suddenly feeling a sense of boldness. All she had to do was lick his ear and her dare would be done. It was as simple as that.

Without second-guessing it, she started swirling her tongue all along Marvel's ear. While she did so, Marvel kept laughing under his breath because of how much it tickled, but Madge didn't stop. If anything, she grew bolder and eventually went ahead and shoved her tongue inside. When she pulled it out, she heard everyone clapping and she gave a little smile and a wink.

"I did alright, didn't I?" she asked.

"Not bad," Johanna commented. "Probably could have done better myself, but not bad."

"And now onto the last poor contestant," said Johanna and gave Peeta another one of her sly grins. "Mr. Mellark. This should be interesting."

"Please, Madge," he said and with a light chuckle, added, "Don't be _too_ hard on me, alright?

"We'll see," said Madge, and then asked him, "Truth or dare?"

"I'll go with dare," said Peeta.

"Dare it is," said Madge. "Okay, Peeta. I hope you don't find this too harsh, but I'd like you to eat mustard, ketchup, mayo, relish, lemon juice, tomato sauce and milk all in a bowl. Sound appetizing enough?"

Peeta made a face that everyone burst out laughing at, and said honestly, "That's just gross."

"But it's the dare," Madge told him. "You gonna do it?"

"Sure I am," said Peeta quickly. He then put his arm around Katniss's shoulder and said, "Better wish me luck, sweetheart. This could end badly. Let's hope I make it through this."

"Good luck," she said and planted a quick kiss on his lips. "Show them who's boss."

"Thanks," he whispered with a smile.

When Glimmer led Madge into the kitchen to get the disgusting snack ready, Peeta wondered what his reaction would be to the nasty creation. Would he puke? Would he start coughing like Marvel had done when he'd swallowed the pepper? Would it leave a truly foul taste on his tongue? Or would he somehow be able to swallow the stuff without doing any of those things?

When the bowl was finally brought to him and he looked inside, all the others watched closely and eagerly to see what Peeta would think. He simply raised a brow and glanced at each of them while saying, "This couldn't be any grosser."

"Go on, Peeta," smiled Madge. "Eat her up."

"All in good time, Madge, all in good time," he said calmly, his eyes still focused on the bowl. "Just preparing myself."

"Come on man," said Cato encouragingly. "Just think of it as cake. Frosting, sprinkles, all that good stuff."

"This looks _nothing_ like cake!" said Peeta with a frown, for his mind was now wishing more than ever that his dare had been to scoff down the world's most delicious cake. "It looks more like...goo. Really disgusting goo that shouldn't get eaten, period."

Soon, all of them were chanting and whooping for him to eat it and went on saying, "Eat! Eat! Eat! Eat!" Katniss kept her eyes on him quietly and was secretly telling him, " _Come on, Peeta! You got this!_ " As if he could actually hear her, Peeta gave her a little wink and brought the bowl up to his lips. He opened his mouth wide and hesitating for not even a second...he dropped the gooey stuff into his mouth.

"That a boy!" Cato hooted, and at once started laughing.

"Not bad indeed," Johanna observed.

When Peeta had swallowed the entire bowl, he dropped it on the floor and wiped his mouth clean with his sleeve and smiled in victory.

"Ta-da!" he exclaimed.

"Bravo, bravo!" said Madge, clapping. "A job well done."

"Thanks, Madge," said Peeta.

"Feeling anything yet?" asked Marvel. "Upset stomach? Gonna puke? Gotta hit the bathroom?"

"Actually no," said Peeta truthfully. "I feel totally fine. But it was still extremely disgusting, that's for sure."

"Well, that's the end of round one then!" Glimmer announced, and then said with excitement, "Onto the next round!"

The second round – which required the players to come up with the most random truths and dares they could think of – proved just as hilariously funny as the first.

Peeta started off by picking Glimmer and when she chose truth, Peeta asked her, "What's your _worst_ fear?" Her answer came instantly as, "Being alone for the rest of my life and _never_ finding a guy." This earned a good amount of laughter because everyone present knew how guy-crazy Glimmer was and it made perfect sense that her biggest fear would be not having a guy in her life.

Glimmer then picked on Clove, who asked for truth. The question she got was, "What do you prefer? Underwear or no underwear?" Clove's response was, " _Definitely_ without." She told them it felt so much nicer walking around without wearing the stuff and emphasized how nice it felt being a little nude.

When Clove came up with a truth for Gale, it was, "What's your favourite thing about your body?" He surprised everyone by responding with, "eyes." He went on saying how his eyes could be incredibly haunting and persuasive and that he could say so much just with his eyes. Peeta understood this all too well and as if to confirm, he saw the eyes of the hawk once more locked on him. It gave a deafening screech while reaching its razor talons out to swipe at Peeta's face and if the whole event weren't occurring in Peeta's mind, his head would have been ripped to shreds. But just like every other, this was an illusion meant to trouble him and shove him into a realm where he felt alone and defenceless. All too quickly, the grey eyes of Hawthorne returned and the black creature with the snapping beak and killer claws was once more out of sight.

 _This is gonna be a long day_ , was all Peeta could think. It seemed despite his efforts at calming down and accepting that there was nothing to worry about with Gale, his mind just wouldn't leave him alone.

When Cato's turn came around, Gale made sure to give the crowd an interesting show and dared his victim to _passionately_ kiss a stuffed animal for twenty-five seconds. When a large teddy bear had been brought out and handed to Cato, he just stared at the thing with no expression. They were all holding their breaths while waiting for the show to begin and then...Cato crashed his lips onto the fuzzy toy. He made sure to rub his hands all over it as if he were caressing a person and even let out loud, satisfied moans which only made them all laugh that much harder.

"That's right Cato!" said Johanna with a grin. "You give it to that bear!"

"Feels good, doesn't it?" asked Marvel, and burst out laughing yet again.

When the twenty-five seconds were up, Cato separated from the bear and turned to them with a victorious smirk while telling them, "And that my friends is how it's _done_."

The dare Cato picked out for Marvel was certainly an interesting one. He told Marvel, "Your dare is this: go down in the splits as _far_ as you can."

Marvel just laughed as if the idea were ridiculous and then asked, "You're kidding right?"

"Nope," said Cato.

"The splits?" said Marvel.

"The splits," said Cato with a smile.

"Alright, let's see it Marvel!" Johanna demanded.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he grumbled.

It was clear that Marvel hated the thought of having to do the splits, but he definitely wasn't going to be called a coward so he sucked it up as best as he could. He stood up and slowly, very slowly...started lowering himself to the ground. The look on his face was priceless and it was all anyone in the crowd could do to keep from pointing and roaring with laughter. But Marvel kept on going and he actually got pretty far before he let out a quick gasp and had to get back up. All in all, he'd done fairly well considering how hard of a thing it was for a guy to successfully do the splits.

"Good effort Marvel," Johanna told him. "But you could have done better."

"It's good enough," he shot back. "Now let's see. How about you Johanna? Truth or dare?"

Johanna picked dare and Marvel looked directly at her while saying, "Here it is then: suck your thumb and cry like a baby for one minute."

"Like a baby, is it?"

"Come on, Johanna!" said Cato. "Show us watcha got."

"Oh, you wanna see, huh?" she said. "Watch and learn then Cato."

So Johanna went ahead and stuck her finger right in her mouth and instantly transformed from the sixteen-year-old teen to a year old baby screaming its head off. She cried and went on whining about how she missed her mommy and that right there earned applause from the group. She even rocked back and forth and the image of her doing this was almost _too_ funny to handle. When she was finished, all she gave was a little bow before choosing her victim, which was Madge.

"Truth or dare, Madge?"

"Let's go with dare," she answered.

"Okay, lick the floor," said Johanna bluntly.

"I'd _love_ to," said Madge sarcastically.

Watching Madge run her tongue along the wooden floor was certainly funny, and proved even funnier when she started wiping off her tongue with her finger. It was when she glanced at Peeta that a sly grin crossed her face.

"Peeta!" she exclaimed. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," said Peeta.

"Dare it is then. Let's have somebody in this room read some of your texts...to Katniss. How about you Cato? I'm sure you'd love to read them?"

"Sure would," said Cato. He walked over to Peeta who dug into his pocket and handed Cato his phone.

"Be nice and loud," said Johanna. "I wanna be able to hear."

Cato cleared his throat and quickly began browsing through Peeta's texts.

"Hi sweetheart," he said, and an amused smile was forming on his lips. "I miss you right now. How's class?"

"Keep goin', keep goin'," said Johanna.

"I brought in some cupcakes for you," said Cato. "I think you'll like them. I made sure to use extra frosting and even put the little sprinkles on them that you like."

"Awww," said Johanna. "That's too adorable." She then muttered under her breath jokingly, "Think I'm gonna puke."

After Cato had gone through a few more texts, he gave Peeta his phone back and took his place next to Marvel and Glimmer.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" Peeta said to Cato.

"A little," he lied, but Peeta could tell by the small grin that he'd _definitely_ gotten a laugh out of it.

"Looks like it's my turn now," said Peeta, and he turned to Katniss and asked, "Mind if I pick you, sweetheart?"

"Go for it," she smiled.

"Alright," said Peeta. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"I want you to call the Hob and put in an order for ten free pizzas."

"This should be good," commented Madge.

Glimmer came over and handed Katniss the phone while making sure that it was on speaker. Peeta kept his smile on her and watched her with eagerness as she slowly started dialling the number. She brought the phone up to her ear and waited for someone to answer. As always, it was Greasy Sae that picked up.

"Hi, you've reached the Hob. How can I help you?"

"Hi, it's Katniss. I uh...I'd like to put in an order."

"Sure thing, dear. What will it be? The usual for you?"

"No, something else. Can I uh...can I get ten free pizzas?"

There was a brief pause before Greasy Sae said, "Ten free pizzas I can get for you but no _way_ am I handing those out for free, dear."

"Please?" she asked sweetly.

"Sorry, Katniss," said Greasy Sae firmly. "But I've got other customers waiting, and I'm not one to keep customers waiting. Good-bye."

Katniss put the phone down and when she raised her head to look at the others, they instantly broke out laughing.

"Nice one," said Cato.

"Sucks though," Johanna threw in with a huff. "I was kind of _hoping_ we'd get those ten free pizzas."

"Yeah, that wouldn't happen," Katniss chuckled.

"Nicely done sweetheart," praised Peeta.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" she asked him.

"It was amusing," he admitted with a smile. "Especially when you said please. You sounded so sweet. If I didn't know you, I'd say you sounded just like a little girl that wanted a pony for Christmas."

He gave a small chuckle, but then immediately grabbed onto his shoulder and let out a surprised, "Ow!" He hadn't expected Katniss to lean over and give him a light punch, but there was no expression of annoyance or anger on her face, only a tiny grin.

"What was that for?" asked Peeta innocently, rubbing his shoulder.

"I didn't ask for a pony, Peeta," said Katniss, amused by the confused look on his face. "I asked for ten pizzas."

With a smile, he said, "Ah, that's right. It was pizzas you asked for. Not a pony. Sorry, sweetheart. Guess I wasn't paying attention."

"And now for the third and final round," Glimmer declared. "Enough with the gross and random...let's get sexual!" She then scanned the group for a few moments, and her wandering eyes fell on Clove.

"Clove! You're the lucky pick. Truth or dare?"

"Do you really need to ask?" said Clove. "Dare."

"Well here it is then," said Glimmer. "I dare you to _suck_ on Cato's tongue."

"Wow, first Johanna makes me lick peanut butter off his toes," Clove commented. "And now you're getting me to suck his tongue. Can't even imagine what's next."

Glimmer shrugged her shoulders and said innocently, "What can I say? We like picking on you. Now get that tongue in his mouth, missy."

"She's all yours, Clove," said Cato. "And don't worry...this'll taste _much_ better than my smelly old toes. Promise."

"Yeah, we'll see," was all Clove said before she took Cato's tongue into her mouth. There was no denying that it was much nicer licking a warm, wet tongue than it was peanut butter that had been wedged between a guy's smelly old feet. This went on for about a minute before she pulled away and Cato gave her the tiniest wink.

"You loved that," he told her.

" _You_ loved it," she corrected with a grin. She then turned her attention to Gale and barked, "Hawthorne! You're up next. Truth or dare?"

"Give me a dare," he demanded boldly.

"You asked," said Clove. "Alright. Give me your _sexiest_ and most _passionate_ moan. And when I say sexy and passionate...I mean sexy and passionate."

"Sexy and passionate, huh?" said Gale. "How's _this_ for sexy and passionate?"

And he went ahead and presented what was undoubtedly a moan of passion and sexiness. When the sound reached Peeta's ears, it hit him that he was most likely thinking of and imagining himself with Katniss while producing that moan. He was probably picturing her pressed up against him while she pleased him and in return, he pleasured her. Just as quickly, the moan ended and before he gave a smile in victory, Peeta saw the eyes change once again into those of the hawk and a howling screech escaped its mouth.

 _Stay calm_ , thought Peeta. _Your mind's just messing with you and wanting you to think that he's picturing Katniss, when he might not even be doing that. And besides...it's only a dare_.

"Sexy and passionate enough for ya, Clove?" asked Gale when he'd finished.

"Not bad," she told him, shrugging. "I'm impressed."

"You should be," said Gale. "Alrighty then, who's next? Cato, how about you? Truth or dare?"

"Give me a dare," said Cato.

"You'll like this," said Gale with a smile. "I want you to go into another room with somebody else, pretend to be having sex with them and be extremely _verbal_ about it. But if you want to go a bit further than just pretend then by all means do so."

"Oh, is that all?" challenged Cato, grinning. "Sure. So who'd like to go with me?"

"I'll go," said Johanna quickly. She got up and took her place next to Cato. She then looked to Glimmer and said, "Sorry, Glim. Bet you really wanted this, didn't you? I can see the disappointment written all over your face. Let me guess? You're sobbing on the inside, aren't you?"

"Not really," said Glimmer. She chuckled and added, "It'll be way funnier hearing you two in there."

"Oh, just wait," said Johanna slyly. "We're gonna be _real_ loud. Might even wake up a few neighbours. And if we do, just tell them it's nothing. Tell them it's all part of a dream and they're really sleeping."

"Yeah, they're really gonna fall for that," laughed Madge. "You two better not go waking up the neighbours or else you'll have a real problem on your hands."

"Maybe," said Johanna. "But that doesn't change the fact that I intend on being loud. Silence just isn't an option for me."

"Can hardly wait," said Marvel eagerly.

Johanna took Cato by the hand and led him into one of the other rooms and shut the door and made sure to lock it. Since no one could actually _see_ them, none of them knew just what exactly these two would be doing. Would they get naked? Would they go so far as to actually do some pleasuring? All they could do was listen and wonder what Johanna and Cato were doing behind that closed door...whether it was real _or_ just pretend. And just as Johanna had said, they were more than _loud._

"Ahh, yes!" she moaned out, the pleasure showing in her voice. " _Cato_!"

He responded with a deep groan and went on shouting her name, over and over. It seemed like the moaning and groaning was endless, as if these two were really enjoying themselves. But what the others didn't know was whether or not they were in fact doing stuff, or if it was all an act and all part of the dare.

It was when they came out of the room without an ounce of sweat on their body that the group knew it had indeed been an act...but a remarkably good one.

"Wow," said Marvel. "For a second I thought you guys actually did it."

"Nah," said Johanna. "But it was pretty believable, wasn't it?"

"Very," said Glimmer. "You even almost had me convinced."

"And now onto the next one," said Cato. "How about you, Marvel? Truth or dare?"

"I'll go with truth."

"Let's see. If you could make out with anyone in this room, who would it be?"

"Hmm," he said, and gave it a quick thought. "I'd say Glimmer."

She gave him a little wink and asked, "Oh, you would, would you?"

"Sure," said Marvel and returned her wink. "Alright, let's keep this moving. You're up next, Johanna. Truth or dare?"

"Dare," was her answer.

"Okay," said Marvel. "Kiss anyone of your choice for one minute on the lips."

"Awesome," said Johanna. "And I know just who to pick." She made her way over to Gale and kneeled down in front of him with a grin.

"Hello Gale."

"Hey, Johanna," said Gale and gave her an inviting smile. "Nice of you to drop in."

"Anytime, Hawthorne," she said.

"Then what are you waiting for?" he asked and leaned in closer while opening his mouth just slightly. "Kiss me."

Johanna wrapped her long arms around Gale's neck and brought her lips crashing onto his. He held her firmly by the waist as the two brushed their lips against one another. All Peeta could think of while watching them kiss was that Gale was probably imagining that Johanna was Katniss. It wasn't that he truly wanted to kiss Johanna...it was that he wanted to kiss _someone_ and _pretend_ that it was Katniss. For a second he could have sworn that the guy turned and looked at him and in the screeching voice of the hawk, said, "She's gonna be mine soon enough you little _baker_. Just wait and see."

 _It's nothing, Peeta_ , he told himself calmly while ignoring what he thought he was feeling. _He's not thinking of Katniss at all. Your mind's just acting up again. Just gotta ignore it_.

When the two separated after the long minute, Gale put on a fake smile and said, "What a lovely kisser you are Johanna."

 _But what if that's not what you mean_? thought Peeta. _What if you wanted that kiss to be with Katniss_?

As if Gale could read his every thought, he snapped his head in Peeta's direction and locked his eyes on him as he morphed once more into the vicious bird. As usual, the vision lasted only a few seconds but it felt like a lifetime for Peeta.

"Why don't you keep your mouth _shut_ , Bread Boy?"it hissedin that same deep, guttural voice. "Or do I gotta come over there and rip your little tongue out?The image of the hawk then vanished and once again in its place was Hawthorne.

"And my turn again," said Johanna. "Let's go with you Madge. Truth or dare?"

Madge thought for a moment, and then answered with, "Truth."

"Tell me this then," said Johanna. "If you had to marry a teacher in the school, who would you pick and why?"

Madge gave some consideration to this question and said finally, "Mr. Odair. He's just so dreamy."

"No surprise there," said Glimmer. "The guy's a hottie. I mean...those sea green eyes, bronze hair, amazing body. He's gorgeous. What's not to like?"

"Can't argue with that," said Clove. "Definitely the best lookin' teacher in the school. And teaches one of the best subjects, too."

"Yeah?" said Cato. "And who's the best lookin' _student_ in the school?"

"Not you," said Clove with a smirk.

"Nice one Clove," he shot back. "But that's a lie. I know you're crazy about me. I see the way you look at me with those puppy eyes."

"You _wish_ ," she scoffed.

"I don't wish," said Cato with a playful grin. "I _know_."

"Okay, enough!" said Madge, laughing. "We get it. Clove's either crazy about him or she's not—"

"I'm not," she confirmed flatly. "Now let's get off this topic before I land a punch to his head."

"Ouch..." said Cato, and slid a bit closer towards Marvel while whispering, "Keeping my distance from that one."

"Not a bad idea."

"Right," said Madge. "Well it's my turn now and I'd like to go if you're all okay with that."

"Sorry, Madge," said Cato, giving Clove another playful smirk. "We'll behave. I just don't want to get punched in the head."

"Thank you," said Madge. "Guess Peeta and Katniss are last to go again. I think I'll pick Katniss again this time. Now Kat, I know you two said you wanted to take it slow and all but mind if I speed things up just a little?"

"Depends what you mean by speeding things up," said Katniss.

"Okay, truth or dare?" asked Madge.

"You probably want me to pick dare and I've come this far so I might as well go with dare."

"You brave girl," smiled Madge. "Here's your dare Katniss: I want you to take Peeta's shirt off and use your tongue to pleasure him. I know, I know. That's really mean of me but we're all here to have some fun, right? And I know you wanna take things slow and all but...mind if we spice things up a little? Just a little?"

"Ooh, _nice_ one, Madge," said Johanna with an impressed whistle. "Gettin' bold aren't we?"

"A little," Madge admitted.

"Shouldn't be a problem for you, Katniss," said Cato. "You _did_ admit to wanting to have sex with him, right? This'll be nothing."

"I didn't mean right now though!" Katniss reminded him quickly. "I meant years down the road. Later...not for a long, long time."

"Exactly," said Cato with a shrug. "This'll be nothing compared to that. Piece of cake."

"Way to go, Cato," said Gale with a slight grumble while shaking his head.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"You said cake," Gale told him, raising a brow. "And guess who's hungry now?"

"Oh, sorry," said Cato, and then said with an amused laugh, "Didn't mean to get people's stomachs growling. Anyway, back to Katniss. You know it'll be easy, right? Just a little work of the tongue, not too much and not too little. Easy."

"Yeah, but not for her," Marvel threw in. "The two wanted to take things slow, remember? This is kind of a big step from kissing to suddenly licking his chest and—"

"Okay, okay!" said Katniss, frustrated with everyone's remarks. "I'll do it!"

It wasn't so much that she minded them teasing her since she knew they were all just goofing around but it _was_ _just a bit_ annoying. She was already nervous enough to have to remove Peeta's shirt _especially_ when she'd never even seen him half naked before. She knew Marvel was right when saying that this was a big step from the simple, innocent kissing they'd been starting out with. This was a whole different game.

But she knew it wasn't _that_ big of a deal, or that's what she tried to convince herself of anyway. All she had to do was remove his shirt and move her tongue around a bit on his chest. Simple as that. Could have been a lot worse. Knowing what these guys were like, they could have dared her to go down even further and use her tongue in other, far more private places. She was just starting to lift Peeta's shirt up when he put his hand over hers, stopping her.

 _A_ _nd I do_ _love_ _him_ , she thought, thinking it over. _He'd do anything to make me happy if I asked him to, so he deserves to have a bit of pleasure himself._

"Katniss," he said quietly, "You don't have to do this if you'd rather not. You can always say no if it's not something you're comfortable with."

"Aw, come on Peeta!" Johanna cajoled. "It's just a bit of tongue work. No biggie."

"Yeah, but I don't want her doing it if it makes her uncomfortable," said Peeta seriously. "I know Truth or Dare can be fun and it is, but not when people feel uncomfortable."

"No, it's...it's okay," she told him. She looked up and met his gaze and as Peeta studied her expression, he got the feeling that maybe she _did_ want this. She looked nervous, there was no denying that, but maybe the nerves had more to do with the fact that so many people were around. If she and Peeta were alone, it would just be them and no one else around, but this was different.

"You sure?" he asked, not dropping her gaze.

"Positive," said Katniss, and then said chuckling lightly, "Just gotta pretend it's me and you."

"Good luck with that," was all Johanna had to say.

"Here's some advice!" Cato offered. "Think of his chest as one big ice-cream cone."

"Wow, Cato," said Marvel and began laughing uncontrollably. "Great advice."

"Not bad if I do say so myself," said Cato with a pleased smile. "Not bad at all. And speaking of ice-cream, she can even pick a flavour. Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry...whatever flavour she can use to best describe Peeta."

"Best advice she'll probably get," said Johanna.

"Probably," Cato agreed. "Good luck with the flavour thing though Katniss. Should be interesting to see what you pick."

Katniss ignored her and kept her eyes only on Peeta. He made sure to give her an encouraging, loving smile as she slowly began to lift his shirt up. He then raised his arms and she pulled it up and over his head before tossing it on the floor. Peeta's chest was now completely exposed. He got down onto his knees so he now sat kneeling in front of her.

Katniss noticed Johanna whistling and Glimmer eyeing him adoringly and was quick to snap while looking back at them, "Don't even go there."

"Relax, Katniss!" said Johanna laughing. "Take a joke. We're only kidding. I've got my eyes on someone else anyway."

"Same with me," said Glimmer. "We just like teasing you, that's all. But we'll stop."

Katniss turned her attention back to Peeta and his now bare chest. After giving him a quick up and down look, there was only one word she could think of right then to use to describe Peeta Mellark and that was whole being and everything about him was just incredibly beautiful – his spirit, his kind, gentle personality and his body. Peeta was just amazing and as she sat there in front of him, any thoughts or fears or doubts about this dare were gone entirely. She didn't care about the others teasing or watching them because all she wanted was to bring pleasure to this amazing boy.

When she first brought her tongue onto Peeta's chest, he was dangerously close to crying out. But he was able to contain it and focus on the simple joy of being with the girl he loved. She ran her tongue over his smooth, bare chest and when she became a little bolder and flicked her tongue across one of his nipples, he couldn't hold back the sudden gasp escaping him. Being an especially sensitive person, this felt all too incredible for Peeta and it was a feeling he wish could go on for hours.

This caused a good deal of excited laughter amongst the crowd.

"Ya like that, don't ya, Peeta?" said Johanna. "Well if you think _that's_ good, then you should have listened to me when I said you'd _love_ to just—"

"Oh, shut up, Johanna," said Madge, giving her a light shove. "Leave them alone, will ya? Quit teasing and go pick on somebody else. Can't you see they're busy?"

"But they're such _fun_ to pick on," she said with a mischievous smile.

"But so are Cato and Clove," Marvel pointed out.

"Can't argue with that," Johanna agreed.

After a few minutes of running her tongue along Peeta's chest, she handed him his shirt back with a smile. He smiled in return and put his shirt on. That was when his eyes widened and a second smile crossed his lips when he told her, "Uh-oh...your turn now."

"Sure is," she said. "And you're the only one left to pick. Which means _I_ get to pick _you_."

"You didn't tell us what flavour you picked Katniss!" said Cato quickly, an eager expression crossing his face. "And don't be shy because we all know you picked one."

Katniss thought for only a moment before answering, "Vanilla. There, happy?"

"No," said Johanna. "Details please. What made you pick vanilla?"

Katniss sighed and said, "Vanilla's sweet and Peeta tastes kind of sweet too. That good enough for you?"

Cato, Johanna and Marvel exchanged looks, and then all chirped, "Yup."

She then returned her attention to Peeta and, "Alright, mister. Your turn."

"Go for it," said Peeta.

"Okay," said Katniss. "Truth or dare?"

"How about we end this game with one final dare?" he offered, and then added with enthusiasm, "The dare to end all dares?"

"Ooh, dramatic," commented Madge.

"Can hardly wait," said Marvel.

"Sounds good to me," said Katniss. "Alright, Peeta, here's your dare." What she said next to him though wasn't exactly something Peeta would have foreseen. He even had to repeat the words in his head to confirm that he wasn't really dreaming and just imagining that he'd heard them. I'd like you to French kiss me."

Cato whistled and remarked excitedly, "Getting bold, aren't we Everdeen?"

"Didn't expect that," said Johanna. "From anyone else, yeah. But not from Katniss."

Peeta took a step closer to her, wrapped his arms around her waist and asked softly, "You sure about this, sweetheart? I know I said the dare to end all dares but we don't have to go this far. If you'd rather not, we don't have to."

"Same answer as before," she said confidently while meeting his gaze. " _Positive_ _._ _"_

 _"Really?" he asked with obvious surprise._

 _All she gave him was a nod._

Peeta couldn't help but smile. He absolutely loved this girl and just as she'd wanted minutes ago, all he wanted right then was to give her pleasure. While their friends sat watching and whispering, it was like they'd gone invisible and could no longer be seen or heard by Peeta and Katniss. It was like the two had entered a special world only for them where all that mattered was being with each other. Peeta caressed her cheek gently and gazed into her eyes with such love and adoration that Katniss felt like she was melting. It was then that their faces were only inches apart and leaning in even closer...their lips met. Like all the kisses they'd shared so far, this proved just as warm and passionate and gave them fluttering butterflies that refused to be still.

It was when Katniss slowly opened her mouth that she felt a new and amazingly wonderful sensation – and that was Peeta's tongue coming into contact with her own. It was warm, wet and the feeling of her own tongue sliding against it was an entirely new experience...and she _liked_ it. Because it was their first time performing a French kiss, their movements were a bit awkward and clumsy at first but after a few attempts that all changed when their tongues created a dance all on their own.

When they separated, Johanna started applauding and said, "Great show, guys."

"Held my attention," said Cato.

"And mine," Marvel added.

"Well, that's the end of the show," said Katniss. "Glad you enjoyed it but that's all the truth or dare for tonight."

"It _was_ quite a show, wasn't it?" said Peeta, wrapping an arm around her.

"It was," she agreed. "I don't know about you but I think I've had my fun with truth or dare for a while."

"Couldn't agree more," said Peeta.

Just as the night was coming to an end and the nine of them were preparing to head back home, Peeta took a moment to quickly head down the hall to use the bathroom. It was heading back down the hall and re-entering the living room that he ran into...Gale.

It was the first time that night the two ended up standing in front of the other with nobody else around. Katniss, Glimmer and the rest were all at the front door laughing and still chatting about the number of dares they'd just successfully completed. Gale, however, had clearly left them because of something on his mind and Peeta had a pretty good idea as to what it concerned.

Before he had time to speak though, Gale opened up first.

"Hey, Peeta." _Yeah, yeah. Stand there like an idiot and stare at me like I'm the last person you'd expect to see. You're too obvious, Peeta. But this should be simple enough, so let's not waste too much time._

"Hi," said Peeta, doing his best to appear calm. _He's not mad, is he? Because I know it probably wasn't fun for him to have to watch Katniss and me together but...but he agreed to come. If he knew it would have bothered him, he definitely would have stayed home._

"Look, I...I just wanted to talk to you about what I said to you," said Gale and surprisingly, he sounded much calmer than Peeta had ever remembered him sounding. "Back in September, I mean. I know it's kind of a long time ago and I probably should have come to you earlier but I wasn't really thinking straight. I had a lot going through my head but then I thought about it and I realized what a jerk I was. Not the best word to use, I know. I said some pretty nasty things to you. I know I was mad and upset and all but I shouldn't have been like that. You don't treat a person like that just because you're jealous."

After a long pause, Peeta asked quietly, "What are you saying? Do you mean you're okay with Katniss and I being together, or are you—"

"No I am," he said reassuringly, and took a seat on one of the couches. _That's it, Hawthorne. Calm, in control, and everything else falls right into place. One step at a time._ "Took me a while to wrap my head around it but I'm okay now. I just felt bad about what I said to you. Didn't matter that I was mad and jealous as hell. No one deserves to be treated like that. It wasn't till I put myself in your shoes that I really saw what a jerk I was. Telling you to be back off, stay away from her and that you weren't good for her...I shouldn't have said that."

He stared up at Peeta and told him truthfully, "I'm sorry."

Peeta went on staring at him for a solid minute, before than stating somewhat numbly, "Well that's good to hear. To be honest, I was uh...really nervous about what you'd think of it all. I know you've known Katniss a lot longer than I have so I wasn't really sure how you'd react to us being together, with you being her best friend."

"I can't lie, it was hard at first," Gale admitted, still in that same composed voice. "Watching the girl you've loved for four years start falling for another guy isn't exactly easy. Definitely takes time to get used to and wrap your head around. But then I thought about what might happen if I kept on acting the way I've been acting and only one thing hit me. All the anger I've been putting on Katniss would have eventually driven her away from me. She doesn't deserve to be yelled at just because she's given her heart to someone else, and the fact that I'm one of her best friends, it...it just really upset me. I can't stand the thought of losing her and treating you like crap definitely isn't going to make things better for anyone."

Peeta nodded and said quietly, "I know you mean a lot to her, and I just didn't want for us to have to go on fighting over things, and constantly arguing over who should be with her. I guess all I ever really wanted was for us to at least get along and not act like enemies. I just didn't want you to be someone I'd end up fighting with everyday. And to be honest, I've kind of been jealous of you before I even officially met Katniss. I've seen how close you guys are and no one can doubt that you're best friends. But just because I felt jealous towards you didn't mean I wanted to fight with you. And I wouldn't want you and Katniss to start fighting either, not when you've been friends for so long. I'd hate to think your guys' friendship would fall apart just because you and I couldn't sit down and talk about things."

"No, me neither," Gale agreed, and then added, "Especially since Katniss deserves better. I don't think she'd like to see us fighting and snapping at each other's throats. It makes sense that you and I would be jealous of each other seeing how we both feel about her but what's fighting gonna accomplish? It's just gonna make everyone miserable."

After running Gale's words over repeatedly in his head, Peeta asked, "So you're really okay with everything then?"

"I am," Gale confirmed. "Don't worry, Peeta. You love Katniss, you've loved her for way longer than I have and if there's anyone that deserves to be with her...it's you."

"But you've known her for—"

"Yeah, but not as long as you," Gale reminded him. "True, Katniss and I have been friends for four years but I haven't been in love with her since I was a kid. How long did you say you've loved her? Eleven years? That's a crazy amount of time to be in love with someone, Peeta. And the more I think about it, the more I think maybe you two really are meant for each other. Maybe you two are meant to be together in that sense and maybe Katniss and I are meant to remain best friends?"

"And you don't mind being her best friend?"

"No way!" said Gale, and even let a small laugh escape him. "No, she and I have so much fun together that all I really care about is not losing her. I think that's what scared me from the beginning. I don't think it was so much winning her over and keeping her from you – it was more that I feared she'd leave my side once she got with you. But then I thought long and hard about it and I knew that wouldn't happen. You two seem good together, and as long as you guys are happy, and Katniss and I are happy...then that's all that matters."

Peeta gave a small smile and said with relief, "So you and I are okay then?"

Gale reached up, gave Peeta a small handshake and assured him, "We're okay." _Sure we are. And that's a promise, Mellark._ _No way you and I could ever be friends but why should you and I have to be enemies? Why not just accept what is and be alright with that?_

"Katniss will be happy about this," Peeta pointed out, and felt greatly relieved that he and Gale wouldn't have to be constantly swimming in a sea of jealousy. He knew the two likely wouldn't become friends and develop a bond but as long as they weren't at each other's throats, then that was the important thing.

"She will," said Gale. "And that's something you and I can both feel happy about."

Though Peeta hadn't anticipated to be approached by Gale and given an apology, it was definitely something that helped put him at ease. To think he'd no longer have to worry about Gale giving both himself and Katniss a hard time would reduce any possible fears he had of the two ever ending up in serious, violent fights. All he had planned for that day was playing a few rounds of Truth or Dare while sharing some laughs with his friends. Sitting down with Gale was the last thing he'd expected to happen but after hearing what the guy had said, he was extremely glad they'd had this conversation.

As he was about to leave and go join Katniss, he heard Gale calling, "Peeta?"

He turned around, looked at Gale and asked, "Yeah?"

"I know I already said this but...I really am sorry for how I acted."

"It's okay," was Peeta's answer. In a more sincere tone, he asked, "No hard feelings?"

"No hard feelings," said Gale, and there wasn't a trace of hatred or resentment in his voice.

When Peeta turned and made his way out of the room, Gale watched him with unblinking eyes and had to struggle just to keep from laughing. He figured crawling under Peeta's skin would be easy enough, but he hadn't known how truly simple of a task it would be. A few apologizes here and there, some confessing of feeling bitter and envy and he'd all but succeeded. It was clear the pieces of the puzzle were indeed falling into place, and he could hardly wait for the day when they were at last in place.

 _Just gotta be patient_ , Gale reminded himself, who was now getting up to go rejoin Katniss and the others. _Good things come to those who wait...and I'm more than willing to wait._

After Glimmer had thanked everyone for coming and said her goodbyes, Cato got in his car and was joined by Marvel, Clove and Gale while Glimmer hopped in hers along with Madge, Johanna, Katniss and Peeta. She first dropped Johanna off, then Madge, Katniss and then finally Peeta.

That night, Peeta was once again paid a visit by the envious hawk. It had first appeared as none other than Hawthorne but had quickly taken the shape of the monster bird. This time, its screech was louder than ever and its talons seemed shaper than usual. It was like they'd grown twice their normal size and its wings were like massive blankets that hovered over him while trying to seize him in their grasp. All Peeta could do was run and try to escape from the furious hawk but it never grew tired and never stopped howling. It only had one thing on its mind and that was to rip Peeta Mellark apart.

"You're dead you little boy!" it screamed, hot on his trail. "Nothing but dead!"

Suddenly, he found himself tripping and falling fast first on the cold ground beneath him. The impact knocked the air right out of his lungs and he feared there'd b no way of him getting back up onto his feet. He barely had time to turn around and see the horrific sight that was fast approaching him – an opened beak that could tear at his eyes, outstretched claws that would rip open his skin like paper and eyes that were alive with boiling hatred.

All he remembered hearing was one last chilling screech of: _dead you little boy!_

Peeta awoke with a start and when he put his hand on his forehead, he realized he was sweating. That was no surprise. Whenever the hawk came to invade his dreams he normally woke up breathing hard, panting and with sweat on his face. But like always, he was relieved at knowing that it was only a nightmare. It was only a nightmare and a thing of his mind and nothing else. The hawk was all but a horror in his nightmares.

 _This shouldn't be happening though_ , and he felt more confused than he'd ever recalled feeling. After having spoken with Gale himself and realizing the two had both reached an agreement of being okay with things, it made no sense to be visited by such dreams. _He's okay with remaining best friends with her so...so why is this happening?_

There was only one thing that could offer an explanation as to why it was still occurring.

"Is it...is it because I don't really trust him?" he wondered, speaking quietly under his breath. "Is that it? Is it just too hard to believe we can really not go on fighting? Can I not accept that he can really be okay with things?"

It was the only thing running through his head that seemed to make sense. He didn't like it, and he hoped it really wasn't the case, but it was all that made sense right then.

"Maybe it's too soon," he offered, staring up at the dark, blank ceiling. Considering that he and Gale had spoken just hours ago, it certainly seemed plausible. "Maybe after a few weeks or even a few days, the dreams will stop and things will be normal again. I'm sure they'll stop eventually but maybe it's too soon? I'm sure after seeing Katniss with Gale for a while, I'll finally realize the truth...and that's he's done feeling bitter and anger."

As he rolled onto his side and glanced out his bedroom window, he thought: _Just give it some time, Peeta. Nightmares don't go on forever and sooner or later, they'll stop and you'll never have to worry about them again. Just ignore them, keep telling yourself they're only dreams and before you know it...you'll stop having them._

A few days later, Katniss was just about finished with math class when out of the blue she started feeling hungry. She wasn't normally one to get hungry during class but there was no mistaking the gurgling coming from her stomach, and with only ten minutes left of class, she figured she wouldn't miss much, especially when she knew already what had been assigned for homework. So she quietly excused herself and walked down to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. She planned to be quick and get something simple like a muffin and a bottle of water before heading to her next class.

She was just about to enter the cafeteria when she noticed something.

It was so shocking and puzzling that for a second she thought she was _dreaming_. It certainly felt dreamlike and nothing like reality. There was no way she'd ever, not in a million years imagine seeing what her eyes were telling her right then. But it was clear as day what she was staring at. It wasn't a hallucination or some figment of her imagination; it was all but real. There was only one way to confirm what she was seeing. She had to get a closer look, as that was the only way she'd truly be able to confirm if what her eyes were suggesting to her was real.

So without a word, she silently made her way forward. She kept stealing quick glances at the two people to ensure neither of them caught sight of her. But they were too busy smiling and laughing at one another to notice. She managed to make her way down to the center portion of the cafeteria and as quietly as she could, she leaned her back against the wall and slid herself down. The two people were sitting just above her but there was no way they'd see her unless they leaned over and looked down to their left which she hoped they wouldn't or else she wouldn't know how to explain herself if they guessed she'd been eavesdropping. But right then she didn't even care. She was too furious and confused to be bothered.

She kept her ears open and listened in on the conversation between the two people above her.

"I can't even tell you what you mean to me," the guy said with the greatest of affection, and all the warmth and love came pouring out of his voice. "If I had all the time in the world to write the longest poem or write the longest letter, that still wouldn't be enough. All I can say is that I love you like nobody else. You're like the jewel in my crown, the sun in my sky and the beating in my heart. You are my world...and my love."

He then went on with just as much affection, "For you, I'd climb the highest mountain and fight the strongest winds. I'd swim across the biggest ocean and fight the freezing cold. I'd venture across the endless desert and fight the scorching, blistering heat. The strength of the wind, the coldness of the water and the fire of the heat would in no way stop me from reaching you. They could try, but none of them would succeed at keeping me from you."

Katniss had had enough. She was on the verge of losing it entirely and if she didn't let him know just _what_ she was feeling and the pain she was experiencing then she knew she _would_ lose it. It was when she'd walked up and stopped right in front of them that her face grew hard as stone. Without even realizing it, her hands had clenched into fists and her grey eyes became an even darker shade of grey. Her body became frozen still and it was all she could do not to scream out to all those in the school.

Because what she'd seen while approaching them was the guy gently pulling the girl's hand towards his mouth and planting a sweet, light kiss on top of it. The girl had given a smile and the guy gave a smile in return and _that was_ when Katniss felt the building, burning fire increasing inside her. She couldn't accept this. There was no way that she could accept what her eyes were telling her. There was no way she could accept any of it – the two laughing, him confessing his love for her, him kissing her hand and giving her that loving gaze that _he'd_ given to her _so_ many times. It was unacceptable and beyond painful and made her want to wake up in her bed and feel relieved that it was all but a frightening dream...but it wasn't.

What made it so agonizingly painful was that what she was seeing was Peeta Mellark...with another girl.


	27. Chapter 27

**CHAPTER 27**

 **OCTOBER**

"Peeta, what the hell!" Katniss shouted furiously.

She stood next to him staring down at him with a look that suggested she wanted nothing more than to grab hold of him, shove him against a wall and scream right into his face. The girl was startled by her sudden outburst and looked up at her with widened eyes. When Peeta had first seen Katniss approaching him he'd broken out in a big smile but the moment he heard her fuming tone, his smile dropped and a puzzled look came over his face. But the fire in Katniss's eyes and body language told him she was downright pissed.

"Katniss?" he asked. "What's going—"

"Don't even _go_ there!" she snarled, keeping her unblinking eyes locked on his. "Don't even go there, Peeta! What the _hell_ were you even thinking?"

"Thinking about _what_?" he said, genuinely confused. Katniss realized Peeta was doing an extremely good job of acting confused, but she wasn't going to let this fool what she'd seen and what she _was_ seeing at that very second.

"About this!" she said pointing first to him, and then to the girl across from him. "About you going behind my back and becoming just what so many other guys in this school are!"

"What are you talking about, sweetheart?" Peeta asked, who was even more lost at this point.

"Don't call me that!" she hissed, and that's when a single tear fell out of her eye and rolled down her cheek. "Peeta, how could you even do this to me? I thought you told me you loved me? That I was the only one you cared about and—"

"You are, Katniss!" he interrupted with passion. "Don't you know who this—"

"No!" Katniss shouted. Students were starting to glance over at them curiously and were no doubt listening in and eavesdropping on the whole conversation. But Katniss couldn't care less. They heard arguments between couples everyday and right then she wasn't focused on what they thought of the scenario. All she wanted was to let Peeta know just how furious she was with him. "And I don't care who that is. But it's pretty obvious how _you_ feel about her!"

"What do mean how I _feel_ about her?" he said, giving the girl a confused look. Katniss was almost getting sick of hearing Peeta pretend to be so confused about it when he clearly knew what it was all about.

"I'm not stupid, Peeta!" she said, trying to contain her emotions. "I saw you smiling and laughing with her! And then you tell her how much you love her in this great poetic way that you never even said to _me_! And then you...you _kissed_ her hand! I saw it all, Peeta! Stop pretending to be so confused because I _know_ you're not."

"But I _don't_ love her!" Peeta told her. "I don't any feelings for her—"

"I don't wanna hear it, Peeta!" she said, clenching her teeth. "If you want another girl then fine! But don't you dare play me as a fool and go behind my back and do something like this! I trusted you and really thought you were the incredible person I thought you were but I guess I was wrong."

"Katniss, you don't understand," he said and got to his feet. He reached out to take her hand, but she pushed it away and then gave him a rough shove. He almost went tripping over his chair, but he managed to stay on his feet while staring at Katniss with a truly puzzled and worried expression.

"I do understand!" she snapped. "I've seen enough, Peeta. It all makes perfect sense. I thought you were some amazing guy that I was crazy about. I thought everything you said to me, everything you ever did with me you did because you loved me. Well, guess what? I know what you are."

Peeta opened his mouth to speak, but he was instantly cut off by Katniss.

"You're a cheater, Peeta!" she said, and the pain in her voice was all but palpable. She didn't even stay to listen to what he had to say or explain to her. She gave him one last look over her shoulder but just as quickly she turned and hurried out of the cafeteria. Peeta slowly got back into his chair and turned his attention to the girl sitting across from him. Her eyes were still on the open doors where Katniss had barged out of.

"She thinks I'm a...cheater," said Peeta quietly, barely getting the words out.

"She...she heard all that?" asked the girl, just as quietly.

Peeta dropped his head, gave a sigh and said simply, "Yes. I wish she would have just let me _explain_ _._ I understand why she'd think what she does but...oh, it's my fault. It is. I should've introduced you to her days ago, or when we first started going out. I guess I just didn't think to but now look what's happened. Katniss thinks I'm a cheater now."

The girl watched him carefully and then bit her lip which was something she always did when she was thinking hard or was deep in thought.

The two were silent for a moment, till Peeta spoke up and asked, "What do I do, Delly?"

"That's easy," she said softly. "You go and talk to her."

"But how?" said Peeta. "If I do she'll just push me away or start yelling again and—"

"But you _have_ to, Peeta," Delly insisted. "You have to tell her why you said all that, why you kissed my hand. If you don't, she won't change her mind about what she thought she saw. You _have_ to go talk to her."

Peeta stared at her while rolling her words around in his head and said, "You're right. I know I have to it's just—"

"What?" she asked with concern.

Peeta put his head in his hands and said nothing for a moment. He then slowly lifted his head and Delly saw the fear and worry in Peeta's eyes. There was even a small tear forming in his eye that trickled down his cheek. It made her wonder if there was much more going on in Peeta's life than he was letting her on about but she didn't think about asking. She was always there for Peeta if he needed someone to talk to or get opinions from, but she'd never force him to discuss things he just wasn't comfortable talking about.

"I can't lose her, Delly," he said shakily. "She's...she's all I have. I just get so scared that one day she might not be there anymore or that something might happen to her. I don't even know what I'd do with myself if she ever left me."

Delly nodded in sympathy and told him gently, "But she's _here_ , Peeta. All you have to do is go to her, tell her the situation and then everything will be fine. I promise. There's no reason she won't believe you once you show her _these_."

That's when Delly bent over and started rummaging through her bag. Peeta knew her bag was always full and that it usually took her at least a minute to find what she was searching for. She was definitely a girl that liked to have a lot of things with her on the go– snacks, cameras, photos, phones, various books and countless charm bracelets – and almost always had them stuffed in her bag.

What she pulled out was one of her photo albums. It was small and not much bigger than her hand but it still held quite a bit of pictures. Since she was little, Delly had liked forming photo albums and putting pictures of all her friends in them. It became a hobby of hers and she continued doing it as she got older, mostly so she could remember and look back on all the friends she'd made in life. Each of her friends had their own album and the one she held now was Peeta's. It was orange in color since she knew his favourite color was sunset orange and had his name engraved in the center in thick black letters. It said simply: PEETA MELLARK.

She then took a seat next to Peeta and started going through each of the photos while holding the album up in front of them so he could see. They were all pictures of when Peeta and Delly had been children. The two were no older than five and in every snapshot the two were doing some kind of fun thing together. In one they were in the bakery of Peeta's father and had just finished helping him make a batch of chocolate chip cookies but had brown goo smeared all over their faces. Another showed them at the playground swinging on the swings, climbing on the monkey bars or building sandcastles in the sandbox. In others the two were playing tag, drawing with chalk, flying a kite, trading lunches at school, collecting seashells at the beach or making friends with a butterfly.

"I hope you're right, Delly," he said, staring at the photos.

She put a hand on his shoulder and said with empathy, "She will, Peeta. Once she sees these, she'll know that you and I have been friends since childhood. She won't think it's just some random girl you're suddenly with. It's your _friend_ _._ "

"Yeah, that's true," he admitted, but then added quietly, "But what if she still doesn't believe me? What if she thinks I really _am_ cheating on her for you? Sure, I can show her these pictures but how do I know that she'll take my word for this?"

"Well," she said, and thought his question over quickly. As usual, she was able to help her friend out with an encouraging, optimistic answer. "Pretty much everyone in the school knows you and I have been best friends since kindergarten. If she doesn't believe what you have to say, then you can tell her to ask anyone she likes and they'll tell her exactly what you did. Your friends Cato and Marvel both know. And her friends Glimmer, Clove, Johanna and Madge all know. You've got lots of people behind you, Peeta. You're not as alone in this as you think."

"Thanks, Del," said Peeta, giving a small, encouraged smile. "It's good to have someone like you around to help me out. It's funny though how you and I only ever hang out on free which would explain why Katniss has never _once_ seen us together. She doesn't have the same free as us, and you're not in any of her classes so I guess it's not surprising that the time she does see us, it's on free."

"It's too bad we didn't all have the same free, huh?" she said. "Then maybe we'd all have gotten introduced."

"I can't believe I didn't introduce her to you," said Peeta, shaking his head. "I know we've only been going out for a few weeks now but I don't get how it just slipped my mind. I should have remembered!"

"I wish I could have gone to Glimmer's party," said Delly. "Then that way I would have met her for sure."

"Yeah, but I still should have introduced you guys earlier," said Peeta, tapping his fingers lightly on the table.

"I think I know why you didn't," said Delly.

"Why?" asked Peeta.

"Because you were too focused on _Katniss_ ," said Delly with a smile. "You were so happy to finally be with her that you forgot what other little things you wanted to tell her, or show her. Trust me, Peeta. Anyone can see the way you look at her that you're crazy about her. Not hard to believe that it might slip your mind to introduce her to me, especially remembering that you and I only ever hang out on free. If you're spending that much time with her than it makes sense that all you'd be thinking about was _would be her,_ right?"

"I guess so," said Peeta slowly, and then added, "But I still wish I would have remembered."

"I just thought of something, actually," said Delly, staring out the window and into the busy hallway where groups of laughing students strolled by.

"What's that?" said Peeta.

"I wonder if Katniss having known me before now would have made a difference," said Delly slowly, as if she were giving it great thought.

"It would have, though," said Peeta quickly. "Then that way Katniss wouldn't have been so shocked to see you and I together and—"

"But what if she still would have thought what she did?" said Delly softly. "She would have known you and I had been friends for years but what if she _still_ would have thought you were _cheating_?"

Peeta had to consider this since Delly did have a point. What was to stop Katniss from still thinking and still accusing him of being a player?

"I-I don't know," he said, sounding a bit tired. "But you're right. I gotta go talk to her." He got up out of his chair and gave Delly a final look.

"Don't give up on her, Peeta," said Delly. "If she ignores you, keep trying to speak with her. I'm certain that once you tell her everything, she'll no longer see you as a cheater."

"Thanks, Del," said Peeta, giving the smallest of a smile. "Let's hope she believes me."

"I _know_ she will," said Delly confidently. "You're a good guy, Peeta. You just have to remind her of that."

He gave a quick nod of thanks and hurried his way out of the cafeteria. He had one class to go before art, and that was biology. He wasn't sure how he was going to be able to sit through an entire hour of Mr. Boggs discussing the anatomy of a frog while explaining and describing every tiny detail. But he had no choice. The most he could do to keep his mind off Katniss would be to try and pretend that learning about frogs was fascinatingly interesting.

It wasn't. Ten minutes of the class had barely gone by before Peeta was dangerously close to dozing off. No way was he going to let that happen with a guy like Boggs though. If he caught anyone sleeping in his class, he'd have given them such a lecture that the next day they'd be staring at the board with unblinking eyes. It was never a fun time when Mr. Boggs was in a cranky, irritable mood and the two things he couldn't stand to see were students sleeping or texting during class – his class.

Halfway through the class, Mr. Boggs had to leave for just a moment to grab something out of one of the other science rooms. While he was gone, Peeta took the opportunity to take his phone out and not wasting a single second, he started writing up a text to Katniss.

It read: _Hi Katniss. I know you're angry and upset at what you saw in the cafeteria but if you just let me explain to you what that was really all about, I'm guaranteed you'll feel so much better! There's nothing to worry about Katniss. Please let me tell you more about it in art class._

Twenty minutes had passed and there was still no text from her. He wondered if this whole situation was going to play out almost identical to how the other one had. When Rye had spilled all of Peeta's secrets to Katniss, she hadn't returned his text and didn't meet up with him at his locker. What if she refused to speak or even look at him in art? What if she refused to see him any time after that? It was one thing to be told that someone's loved you for eleven years but it was a _completely_ other thing to walk in on the guy you loved and see him with another girl. The more he spent time thinking about how it would all play out and the scary possibility of her not wanting to speak to him again, the more his heart started to ache. All he wanted right then was to have her back in his arms again and only he could make that happen.

When the hour was up and Peeta was heading down the hall towards art class, he felt a sudden feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't put his finger on what kind it was, or what it could mean but it _did_ make him think of...Gale. The hawk had absolutely nothing to do with this latest dilemma which meant that it might not have to make a move at all to split them up. There was a very real chance that Katniss might not want to talk to him again. Maybe she was so furious that she wouldn't _want_ to let him explain? That meant that Hawthorne could set his jealous eyes right on Katniss and Peeta would be powerless to do anything. He didn't know for sure if Katniss would start feeling romantically about Gale, but it wasn't something he wanted to find out. He _couldn't_ let her get taken from him.

When he entered the art room, he noticed Katniss was already sitting. It felt like a hundred bricks were piled onto his feet as he walked over to her. He quietly took a seat next to her and glanced in her direction to see she had her eyes glued to the desk. She had her phone next to her, as well as a sheet of paper and pencils. One of the reasons why Mr. Odair was one of the cooler teachers in the school was because of his appreciation for cell phones. He didn't think it was such a terrible idea to let students use their phones in class _as long_ as they were getting their work done. Where any other teacher would pretty much gasp at the sight of a phone, Mr. Odair was cool and laid-back about it. He'd take someone's phone if they weren't getting their work done but aside from that, he was pretty casual about the whole thing.

The fact that she hadn't texted him back in biology made Peeta wonder if he should text Katniss again. She was sitting right beside him! But then again, she hadn't even looked at him yet. If he sent her a text, the worst that would happen would be that she'd ignore him, so he went ahead and sent her another one.

He wrote: _Katniss, please listen to me. I understand that you're angry but if you let me explain, you won't have to be angry anymore. It'll all make sense if you let me tell you. I_ _promise_ _._ _I even have something to show you_.

Like before, she didn't respond and she still didn't look at him. By the way she was acting, he wouldn't have been surprised if she'd decided to have sat somewhere else that class. But Mr. Odair preferred that partners stay seated together, so she really couldn't do much about that.

Peeta wasn't giving up though. He tore out a single piece of paper from his sketchbook. It was the one he'd drawn of her right before he'd gone down to the lake, which was where she'd confessed her love for him. It held so much meaning to him and he wanted her to see it.

He quickly wrote at the top of the page: _Katniss,_ _please._ _I know guys probably say they can explain and in most cases they can't but_ _believe_ _me when I say that what you saw isn't what you think it is. Please trust me._ He then folded it up and slid it across the table towards her.

She hesitated for only a brief second before unfolding it. Her eyes stayed locked on the image and the words written above for a moment or so. Then she crinkled it back up and pushed it back to him. Peeta frowned, took the picture and put it in his bag. It was clear that Katniss wasn't in the mood for conversation. But he still wasn't giving up. Not even close. He'd never give up on her and unless she told him flat out that she never wanted to see him again...then he'd _never_ be giving up on her. He couldn't, not when she meant the world to him.

He tore out a second page but didn't draw anything this time. He simply wrote in the center of the page: _Katniss, can we please talk about it_? When he slid the paper towards her, it felt like a painful eternity before she finally wrote something under what he'd written, and then pushed it back to him.

She'd written one single word and that was _no_. Peeta stared at the word sadly and quickly wrote under it: _How_ _come? Katniss, I promise I can explain things and then you'll understand what that really was_.

Her only response was: _I don't wanna talk about it, Peeta_.

When class was over, Katniss got up and left without saying a word. She'd gone the entire class not looking or speaking to Peeta. The only communication they'd had was by writing out things on paper, but Peeta knew that didn't quite count as real, actual conversation. What he needed was to talk with her face to face. He watched her leave and knew instantly that he had to follow her, or at least see if she wanted to talk now. He had the full lunch hour to try and fix the unfortunate mess they were both in.

She led him down the halls and out the back doors where she made her way straight into the woods. He knew why she was going there and that was that she needed a spot to be alone and think about what she'd both seen _and_ heard. He silently trailed after her and eventually she stopped walking and took a seat on a large, smooth rock. It looked plenty big enough for two or three people so he did the one thing he knew he had to – he sat down next to her.

She didn't even acknowledge him. But if she would have preferred him to open up the conversation, then that was more than okay with him. He'd do whatever it took to make her see the truth.

"Hi Katniss," he said quietly.

There was a long moment before she said flatly, "Hi."

"Look, Katniss," said Peeta softly. "I know you might not want to hear anything I have to say but can you please just let me say what I have to say? If after that you still don't believe me or don't want to see me anymore, then that's fine. But all I want is the chance to let you know what was really going on back there. Please?"

"I don't know what you can possibly say to make me feel any better," she said in doubt. "But go ahead."

"That girl you saw," said Peeta, keeping his eyes on Katniss. "That was Delly Cartwright. She's been a friend of mine for years. We've known each other since we were kids."

"You expect me to believe that?" she said, finally looking at him. The fire was still burning in her eyes but it had calmed down if ever so slightly. "So now suddenly she's a friend of yours?"

"But she's _always_ been my friend," Peeta said. "Yes, we've known each other for a long time but I've never had feeling for Delly. And she's never felt that way about me."

"Oh, really?" said Katniss sarcastically. "Then tell me this, Peeta. Why did you tell her she was the jewel in your crown, the sun in your sky, and the beating in your heart? Yes, I remembered all of that. Then you went and told her you _loved_ her! What the hell, Peeta? Then you go and kiss her hand? And you want me to believe that you don't have feelings for her? Seemed pretty clear to me how you felt about her."

Peeta's reaction took her completely off guard. It was so not what she'd expected that she actually opened her mouth a little in shock. He gave a small smile as if he'd thought of something hilarious...and then burst out laughing. Katniss stared at him as if he'd gone insane and all she could think was: _How does he find this funny_? _How is this in any way funny_?

Once he'd stopped laughing, he gave her a smile and said, "But I don't, Katniss! That's why I was laughing. When you walked in and heard me say that and kiss her hand, you didn't know _why_ I was doing any of that. That's why I wanted to talk to you so I could tell you."

"So why were you doing it then?" she asked, letting the curiosity creep into her voice.

"You know how District One has always been known for being the most romantic district? You hear people talk about it all the time and everyone says they'd just love to live in such a place?"

"Yeah," she said and her voice was much calmer than it had been just minutes ago.

"Well, Delly's never been there," Peeta explained. "But she's wanted to go there ever since she can remember. And lately she's been saying how badly she wants to go. She wanted to get a taste of just how lovely of a place it is, and how the men speak in poetry and are basically hopeless romantics just like the women. For a while she tried finding people who'd been there but for some reason she couldn't find anyone. I think it's because not many people from District Twelve share the same interest in traveling there, so it was hard to come across people who'd gone there. But I went there a year ago with my family. We spent an entire week there and I got to see everything. I even wrote down some of the poetry I'd heard men speak for Delly since she really wanted to read some but I lost them on the way back. So I didn't have anything to give her. So today we were talking about District One and she was asking me if I'd remembered any of the poetry and there was only _one_ I could recall."

Katniss didn't interrupt, scoff or give any signs that she was losing her faith in him. She simply sat there with her eyes on his and let him continue.

"It was the poem you heard me recite," Peeta told her. "About the jewel, sun and the beating heart. It was the last poem I heard before leaving District One. It was spoken by a young guy who was reciting it to the woman he loved and after he'd finished, he raised her hand and gave it a kiss. Then he asked her to marry him. That was a thing pretty much all the men did there besides hugging, dancing and gazing into their lover's eyes. I wanted to show her just how charming the gentlemen were down there so if she never gets the chance to go there someday at least she'll have what I told her from my trip."

He got no response from Katniss. It wasn't that she was too furious or upset to even speak but rather, it was that she was feeling a sense of embarrassment. She'd felt it the moment she heard Peeta first mention District One and Delly never having been there. Everything he'd just told her made sense. It was clear that he _hadn't_ made this up. Not long ago she would have been convinced that anything he'd try and tell her was an out and out lie. But the sincerity and honesty in his eyes that she'd gazed into so many times took any bit of doubt, anger or fear out of what she'd originally thought – and that was that Peeta Mellark was a cheater. Now she felt _horrible_ for ever having let the very thought crawl into her mind. It was then that she realized just how amazing of a guy Peeta was and how terribly wrong she'd read the whole situation.

When she felt Peeta moving closer towards her, she didn't get up or move or say a word. She stayed sitting and kept her eyes on the ground while she kept replaying his words over in her head. He watched her briefly and then put one of his arms gently around her and she felt the warmth of his arm like a protective and comforting blanket.

"That's what I wanted to tell you, Katniss," he said softly.

He then reached into his bag and pulled out the small album that was Delly's and held it out in front of them. She looked at it curiosity as Peeta opened it up and revealed the many pictures of him and Delly as children. As Peeta had seen when Delly first showed him, Katniss saw the two helping Peeta's father bake cookies, at the playground, playing tag, drawing with hopscotch, flying a kite, trading lunches at school, collecting seashells at the beach and the two becoming friends with a butterfly.

"We've known each other since we were kids," said Peeta. "We used to play together and have fun, but we never had feelings for the other. And Delly's known how I've felt about you since I first laid eyes on you. She's always known."

For a long time, Katniss was silent. No words came out of her mouth but when they did, they were so quiet that Peeta could barely make them out.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't to be sorry, Katniss," said Peeta. "If anyone should be sorry it's me. I've been meaning to introduce you to Delly for a while now but ever since I've been spending time with you I...I just forgot. You're the only person I've been thinking about. This might not have happened if you'd have known who she was."

"But I shouldn't have yelled at you," she argued, and thought back to just how furious she'd been with him. And worse, she hadn't even let him explain. "I should have at least let you tell me what that was all about."

"You were upset," said Peeta and pulled her into a hug. "You just didn't like what you saw and wanted answers. It was natural how you acted."

"But still, Peeta," she went on, holding him close. "You didn't deserve to be screamed at like that. I feel awful for doing that."

It was then that she heard a sudden voice in her head whispering: _You could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve him, you know_. Katniss had no idea if someone she knew were telling her this or if it was some random voice that had come out of nowhere but whoever's voice it was, they were right _._ She really didn't deserve a guy as wonderful as Peeta and as she sat there thinking about how she'd went on yelling and hollering at him as if he were the worst person in the world, she felt awful.

Peeta stared into her eyes and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before taking her face in both of his hands. She never dropped his gaze or looked away. The warmth of his touch made her feel safe and protected as if nothing around them could possibly hurt them.

"It's okay now, though," he whispered and planted a kiss on her forehead. He kept his forehead against hers for a moment before pulling away and smiling, "Just a brief misunderstanding. But we took care of it. It's all fixed now."

Sensing that she was still upset about something, he asked with concern, "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"It's just..." Katniss started, and wrapped her arms firmly around his neck while taking a quiet breath. Peeta watched her carefully while waiting for her answer. "I _don't_ want to lose you, Peeta."

He held her as close as he could and said reassuringly, "You won't, Katniss. There's nothing that'll happen to me. I'm not going _anywhere_...I promise."

He brought his lips onto hers and kissed her while still holding her face in his hands. As their lips brushed against the other, Katniss felt his words washing all over her and any fear she had of losing him was instantly gone. Peeta wasn't one to ever break a promise and if he said that _nothing_ would happen to him and that he wasn't going _anywhere_ then that's how it would be.

When they separated, Katniss gave a small smile and asked, "Now that I think about it, I'd actually like to hear about your trip to District One. All that romance and poetry and kissing hands...I'd like to hear more. It sounds intriguing."

Peeta smiled and said, "Okay. How about we hang out after school today and I'll tell you _all_ about it?"

"Alright. Hey, maybe you could introduce me to Delly then, too?"

"Sounds good," said Peeta. "She'll be ecstatic to meet you. She's always thought of you as a great person and has always admired you."

When Peeta had introduced the two, Katniss took an instant liking to Delly. She could see right away why Peeta was friends with her and that was because she was extremely friendly. Likewise, Delly was simply thrilled to finally meet Katniss, who knew right then that if she ever needed someone to talk to or needed a favour, then Delly would be there. But she could only stay for an hour because she was going out for dinner that night with her parents so she had to be getting home. Peeta and Katniss decided to hang out a little bit longer.

"Oh, yeah!" said Peeta excitedly. "Almost forgot. Guess what's coming up next week?"

What?" she asked.

"Come on, don't you know?" he said, laughing. "It's the end of the month which means..."

"I don't _remember_ anything that's happening next week," she told him, confused. "Something in art class? A test?"

"Halloween, silly!" said Peeta and with the excitement in his voice, he sounded like a kid again. "October's almost over. I was wondering if you wanted to go trick-or-treating with me?"

Amused by this, Katniss laughed and said, "Uh, aren't we a bit old for that, Peeta? Isn't it usually kids who go around collecting candy?"

Peeta shrugged and said casually, "Yeah, but there's no rule saying that us _bigger_ and older kids can't get some as well, right?"

"That's true," said Katniss, and couldn't help but grin.

"See!" Peeta exclaimed. "Even _you_ can't resist a bit of candy, sweetheart. What do you say? You up for some trick-or-treating?"

After a few seconds, she broke out in a smile and said, "Alright, I'll go. I'm guessing you want to dress up too?"

"Absolutely," was Peeta's quick answer. "Can't go collecting candy without a costume because that's half the fun gone. I was even thinking of going as a zombie and have _you_ as my zombie bride. What do you think? Scary enough?"

" _Definitely_ scary enough," she said, and was suddenly looking forward to it.

"Gotta love Halloween," said Peeta with a playful wink.

The two shared a lot of laughs that night while going from house to house for candy. Their costumes were so frightening and realistic looking that most people gave a little gasp when they first saw them. An older woman even called for her husband to come take a look. The man only roared with laughter when he saw the impressive costumes. It was especially fun to see the little kids look at two zombies who were much taller than themselves. At one point, Katniss even raised her arms and gave the most terrifying moan she could. The kids thought it was the scariest thing they'd ever heard and ran off in the other direction while almost dropping their bags of candy.

"Katniss!" Peeta scolded, but he too couldn't help but laugh a little. "They're only kids. You're gonna give them nightmares."

"It's Halloween, Peeta!" she reminded him. "Anything can happen!"

She then took a few steps toward him and let out that same terrifying moan and he challenged her with an even louder one. The two then fell silent and burst out laughing before turning and heading onto the next street. By the end of the night, the two were rewarded with a full bag of treats and goodies.

"We'll have to do this again next year," Peeta suggested, swallowing a particularly gooey piece of chocolate. "I forgot how good this candy is."

Katniss didn't answer. She only nodded and finished devouring a chocolate bar before grabbing a bag of chips and beginning the process of devouring them just as quickly.

"Whoa, slow down, sweetheart," said Peeta with a chuckle. "Or you're gonna get a stomach ache."

She shook her head and said, "No way. Halloween only comes once a year." She then grinned at him and said, "Gotta enjoy it while it's here, Peeta."

"That's true", he smiled. "Well, in that case, can you hand me some of that liquorice?"

"Not afraid of getting a stomach ache?"

Peeta gave a little shrug and said, "Maybe a little...but I just gotta have some of that liquorice."

With Halloween over, that meant the month of October was officially done and it was now the start of November. It was the start of a new, fresh month and Katniss got a sense that this month would be one of the best. She wasn't sure why she felt so, but the feeling was there all the same and it made her look forward to seeing what this month would have to offer.

One night, as she was dozing off and on her way to dreamland, she took a sudden change in direction and wound up in a place she absolutely hated, which was in a nightmare. She hadn't had one in a while but she was certainly on her way into one now. At first she was puzzled as to where it had taken her but then she realized she was at a carnival. As the dream progressed, her mind seemed to get foggier and it was near impossible to make out what was happening around her though she did remember a few startling images – a massive ferries wheel that was erupting in flames coming off its track and rolling towards her; dozens of people running and screaming; wild animals stalking for prey, rides bursting into flames and coming apart, and the occasional sound of gunshots.

Luckily, the nightmare vanished and once again she was entering the place she loved visiting every night – dreamland. No longer was the carnival in flames. People weren't screaming and running. They were laughing and smiling and having a wonderful time.

What she wasn't aware of was that a large, black hawk was circling the sky like a demon from hell. It didn't cry out, screech or make any sort of noise that would have told her there was something watching them. It simply flew about while keeping its steely gaze on her and the boy next to her, doing nothing but glaring down at them in eerie silence.

That was when she felt a tap on her shoulder and when she turned to see who it was her face lit up like it was Christmas. Standing in front of her was someone who could always manage to put a smile on her face, even in the most frightening times.

"Where to, sweetheart?" came the familiar voice.

"The Ferris Wheel."

"The Ferris Wheel it is," said Peeta, and gave her an excited smile.

She returned his smile and took his hand into hers as she led them off towards the Ferris wheel. As they made their way towards it, there was a single word being whispered into her ear. She had no idea what it meant or why she was hearing it but it gave her an unmistakable feeling of _contentment, protection_ and _comfort. It was like the word was swimming in a sea in her mind and all she wanted was for it to remain locked in her head for as long as it could. She wished the word would make itself known to her but she didn't stay concerned about it for long, because all that mattered was that it left her feeling reassured that all in her and Peeta's world was well._

That was when she was convinced that November was _indeed_ going to be an amazing month.


	28. Chapter 28

**CHAPTER 28**

 **NOVEMBER**

Ever since November had rolled around, Peeta found his sleeps were becoming invaded by nightmares far more than they ever had before. Like an elaborate wheel operating in his own conscious, it was continuously turning on some invisible track and with each turn came a new form of unnerving brutality. Up until now, every once in a while he'd be faced with a visit from the murderous hawk but he could then thankfully go a few days without seeing it. It was on and off; sometimes he'd be sucked into a nightmarish vision while other times he'd have nothing but pleasant, comforting dreams. There was no way of knowing when he'd be flung into another one of these unspeakable realms of unyielding torment because it was all so random.

This wasn't the case anymore.

It was presently dawning on him that things were hastily changing.

For the past week or so, he'd been met with some of the most appalling, daunting images he'd ever been forced to lay eyes on. No words could even begin to portray the sheer horrors set loose in these alarming occurrences because they were just too awful.

They were a barrage of hells within a very hell itself.

One night he was thrust into a place where he discovered his own lifeless body dangling from a rope that hung down from the ceiling above. It was in his own deserted kitchen at home when he'd come across this disquieting sight. A thick, red pool had formed on the table beneath him and dribbling from his pale lips and down his departed body were droplets of blood. His neck was twisted into a disturbingly unnatural angle and his eyes were bloodshot red and looked as if they'd burst out of their sockets if they were so much touched. The entire kitchen was splattered with the red liquid and looked as if an explosion had gone off that had left it coated in such a thick layer. For Peeta, what made the scene so much eerier was having to watch his motionless corpse spin in slow, unremitting circles while the blood continued to ooze down his face, chest, arms and legs. What hauled him out of this show of cruelty was the recurring screech of the hawk and then in a blur of chaos, he was in his bedroom again.

That was only a tiny portion of the terrors that snuck into his dreams.

There'd been incidents where he'd witnessed his body being torn and ripped apart as if it were as thin as paper. Slashing at his face, arms and legs with a bloodthirsty hunger was the predator hawk. While frozen in place and horror-struck, he'd have no choice but to watch in fear as the gory destruction of his own body took place. The carnage and howling in agony went on for an intolerable lifetime and in the end, his entire vision became scarred with the lingering images of his dismembered self. What sent him over the edge and brought him back to reality was the sight of his decapitated head lying at his feet and his two unblinking eyes staring blankly up at him.

That...and the returning screech of his ruthless slaughterer.

Every night when he put his head on his pillow in hopes of getting a relaxing, peaceful sleep he was thrown into the world of terrors and there to greet him was none other than Hawthorne. He no longer appeared as himself but rather, he'd emerge as the enormous bird with the killer talons and snapping beak that wanted nothing but to rip Peeta's body apart. It was growing fervent and impatient and was sick of its enemy proving time and again that he and Katniss would _not_ be separated. It was as if Peeta were throwing spears into its heart or pouring a thick poison into its mouth; it made the hawk that much more determined to claim the girl as its own and it would stop at nothing to make that a reality.

There was one night that Peeta was truly desperate to escape and he feared the desperation of reaching the light would all but consume him.

Like he usually did, he tried to remind and convince himself that it was only a dream and that he couldn't get hurt. But the hawk was screeching so loudly and flapping its wings so violently that he was starting to fear the pain he might feel if one of its curved claws found a mark on his beating heart. He did the only thing he ever did when chased by the monster and that was to run. He pumped his legs as fast as he could but despite his efforts, the door to his freedom and escape only drew farther and farther away with each step he took.

"You're in for it now!" it howled. "You've been lucky so far but your luck's run out." It was now soaring directly above him but it was in no hurry. It had its prey right in its sight and no way was it getting away.

Peeta was panting with fatigue while frantically trying to breathe in mouthfuls of oxygen. He desperately needed air or else he knew he'd black out in a second. He glanced around and saw the sky above him turning a deep, gloomy red. It was raining heavily but he wasn't feeling drops of water pelting his skin. It was lifting his arms up and spotting the red beads of liquid sliding down his body like rivers that he realized what it really was – blood.

It was fresh blood that reeked of death.

With no trees to shelter him from the pouring redness, he'd soon be drenched in blood from head to toe. Though it felt warm on his skin, the air itself was icy cold so he was no longer sure what hot and cold meant to him anymore because nothing around him made sense. How could anything make sense when the clouds were sending down a shower of blood rain instead of fresh, clean water? When the sky was such a burgundy red rather than the typical blue often seen on a summer's day? When as far as he could see there were no trees, roads, homes and not a soul to be seen walking the earth?

In a moment the clouds had darkened into black and looked like giant crows that guarded the sky for the ruling hawk. The sun was setting behind a distant hill and soon enough the whole place would be dark and filled of nothing but shadows. Gone would be any bit of remaining light and what would then consume the place would be endless gloom. The downpour was becoming more violent and intense, and each drop that hammered his body felt like stones. All the while, the constant shrieks of the hawk grew louder than ever. Peeta wasn't sure how much more his throbbing ears could take. It felt like someone had forced a giant tool into his ear and was now piercing away and all he could hear was the persistent sound of his inner ear getting sliced.

" _Go away_ ," Peeta cried weakly. He was starting to cough and his throat felt dry as sandpaper. There was an itchy, prickly feeling that was spreading from his throat right up to his head which then led to an incessant throbbing. "Just leave me alone!"

"Leave you _alone_?" the hawk screamed in a rage that made Peeta's blood run cold, for never had he heard such an eerily hollow voice. Though hollow it was, it was still filled with a fierce and fiery rage. "I'll in no way leave you alone after what you so boldly went and did! You know she belongs to me so before things get truly ugly, why don't you listen to me when I tell you to hand her _over_! It's the final straw...so choose _carefully_."

"No!" screamed Peeta. "I'm not leaving her and I'm not letting you _steal_ her from me! I don't care what you do to me, but you're not touching her!"

"So foolish," the hawk mocked in fury. "And so unwise. I think I've just about had it with you, Bread Boy. You've crossed the line. I'm done with giving you warnings. It's clear you don't listen so instead of wasting both my time and yours, I think I'll just do what I _should_ have done the second you laid eyes on her."

Peeta cried out in the hopes of somehow getting pulled out of this living horror but no hand was there to reach out and save him. He was completely and utterly alone and the hawk knew it all too well. He was trapped in this realm of pain, sadness, despair and fear. It was like a prowling cat on a helpless mouse and in this case, Peeta was the doomed critter with no chance of escape. It wasn't long before he heard the bird make a quick flap of its wings before diving down to meet its foe.

That was when Peeta gasped in shock as both his feet turned unbearably cold as if he'd stepped in a foot of snow. He knew he was a goner when he looked down and saw his feet were encased in huge blocks of ice. When he realized just how powerless he was to get out of this hell, his entire body broke out in a torturous pain. Needles were jabbing at his eyes; his lips felt like they were being sliced open with a knife and were bleeding unstoppably and his skin – though it wasn't in flames – was burning so painfully that all he could do was scream out to the endless expanse of blackness above him.

"Why are you _doing_ this?" Peeta asked, wincing in agony. Despite how inflamed his throat was feeling and how much it was burning, he screamed, "Just leave us alone!" It felt worse when he screamed though, and the louder and longer he went on screaming, the greater the pain became.

"What a foolish question," snapped the hawk in arrogance.

It swooped down and landing on its feet, it raised its head eagerly and like a ravenous wolf, it began circling Peeta like he was a slab of meat. The yellow in its eyes glowed brightly and Peeta swore he could make out his own fear reflecting back into them. In his own eyes was nothing but dread but in those of the hawk's there was a void of blackness and in that he saw his own startled image. "Surely you'd know how I feel about her by now, Mellark. Do you really think I'm going to let you and her stay together? You think I'm just going to stand by and let you and her grow happy together? Accept the fact that Katniss Everdeen doesn't belong to _you_...she belongs to _Gale Hawthorne_!"

"She doesn't _want_ that!" Peeta argued and though it hurt now even to speak, he didn't let that stand in his way. "She told me herself that she loves me! She loves _me_ and I love _her_! You won't split us apart."

"Oh, you think _so_?" said the hawk in a contemptuous tone. It then let out a deafening howl that was filled with hunger and hatred as it bellowed, "Why don't I show you just how _truly_ wrong you are about that?"

What followed was inevitably sheer torment for Peeta and his defenceless body. Since he was unable to move or defend himself in any way, he was exposed and entirely vulnerable to this infuriated creature. All the wrath it kept boggled up inside of it was now finally gushing out and it was all being aimed at Peeta Mellark. What he first felt were the pointed claws slashing and demolishing the delicate skin on his arms. There was nothing to liken the pain to. All he knew was that it felt like a massive knife was slicing him open, one segment at a time. The hawk showed no mercy or remorse for this wailing boy and if anything it only deepened his rage and the more he thought about Katniss and the brick wall that was now clearly between them...the more he wanted him dead.

Soon, Peeta's arms had been damaged beyond repair. He was bleeding so badly that he was surprised he hadn't yet passed out but he knew Hawthorne was in total control which meant he'd keep Peeta alive long enough to feel the pain and torture he was inflicting upon him. He wouldn't let him pass out and enter unconsciousness where he'd be oblivious to the hawk's burning rage. He wanted Peeta to know just how deeply his hatred ran for him.

Next were his legs. They too were slashed open by the killer claws and if not for the ice holding him firm, he would have collapsed to the ground for sure. He then feared what torture would be next when he felt the long beak of the creature locking around his throat. But it didn't deliver the final blow...not just yet. There was still work that had to be done.

Like his bleeding arms and legs, his entire body was about to meet the same, frightening fate. With each excruciating assault he screamed out with all the voice that was left in him. His eyes were plucked from their sockets by the talons of the hawk and he was left blind and sightless. No colors could be seen, the sky had winked out and all that was left was blank and endless white. The monster then went on to impair his hearing completely. No longer could he hear his own screams, nor could he hear the sound of his beating heart which was seconds away from bursting. The worst though came when he felt the familiar claws grabbing onto his lips and he knew right then and there what was about to occur.

As he'd feared, his tongue was yanked out of his mouth and he instantly thought of the old legend that detailed the cruel and brutal torture of those who had their tongues cut out so they could no longer speak. Why such a thing was done, no one knew. The simple fact was that some poor person would be strolling along, oblivious to whoever it was that was pursuing them and before they had time to react or get moving, their tongues were sliced. It was an unsettling thing to envision, but it was one not many were ever able to push out of their minds entirely. It was a thing that most had forgotten though as it had happened years ago, but there were still those that remembered. There were still some minds that refused to wipe out the disturbing legend, for they couldn't prevent it from re-entering their conscious from time to time.

It was then that he recalled the name – Avoxes. The hawk that was Hawthorne had officially turned him into an Avox.

" _Almost_ done," the hawk laughed. "But this last part...this _may_ hurt just a little."

The last two acts carried out by the vengeful hawk involved the swift breaking of Peeta's neck and the removal of his heart from his chest. With its curved claws it shoved them into the boy's chest and having gotten a hold of his beating heart, it tightened its grip on the organ before ripping it out with one effortless pull.

"Wake up and face reality," screeched the hawk with an ominous grin. "This happily ever after you speak so fondly and frequently of...it doesn't exist!"

"NO!" cried Peeta, and awoke with a start.

Like in his nightmare, he was still panting and breathing heavily and his body was covered in a fine sheet of sweat. But his eyes weren't burning, his throat wasn't dry and much to his relief, he realized his feet weren't enclosed in great blocks of ice. And when he put his palm flat against his chest, he was just as relieved to hear the familiar and comforting beating of his heart.

"Just a dream," he breathed in relief.

He was unharmed, alive and safe from the hawk's merciless vengeance. The nightmare was over and once again he was in safe reality where the hawk was nonexistent. He was now feeling more tired than ever but feared if he dozed off he'd just end up in that same torturous spot again. So for the rest of the night, he did nothing but stare up at the blank, dark ceiling while thinking only of _Katniss._

 _Why am I still having nightmares_ _?_ he thought in total confusion. _There's no reason to feel nervous about Gale anymore! All the times I've seen him and Katniss talking he's seemed pretty happy and Katniss was always smiling so why am I still having them? Am I really as much of a worry wart as Marvel says I am? Yeah, I guess I spent a lot of time worrying about the possibility of Gale stealing Katniss from me but there's no reason to think that anymore because he's okay with us being together! For the last time, you really gotta try and calm down, Mellark. There's nothing to worry about anymore._

He sighed in exhaustion and thought drowsily: _Guess I'll just have to try and ignore_ _them. Maybe I'm just scared something will happen to us and that's what's causing me to have them in the first place. I don't know. I just wish they'd stop but even if they don't, they're only dreams._

It crossed his mind that perhaps he should visit a doctor and discuss with them what his dreams had been like for the past few weeks. It certainly wouldn't have been a bad idea but the more he considered, the more he came to the same conclusion. There had to be a reasonable explanation for why he'd started experiencing such dramatic dreams. They wouldn't have simply popped out of nowhere and the fact that they were occurring so recurrently now was hinting at larger implications. The only one he could come up was his own personal worries of losing Katniss. That underlying fear that sat in his mind had to have been the cause for his nightmares to have begun.

 _I don't even think it's Gale so much_ _,_ he thought while staring dazedly up at the ceiling _._ _Yeah, maybe I was a little distrustful at first but a lot's happened since then and it's obvious he's let go of his anger. If he didn't, then he'd lose Katniss as a friend and she means the world to him so no way he'd let that happen. So if it's not Gale then...maybe I'm just scared. But what I am scared for? Nothing's gonna happen._

He decided that if his sleeps continued to get disrupted, then he'd inform a doctor. Though he was personally starting to believe more and more that what he was undergoing could have resulted from a variety of things. There was still Gale and despite that he'd received a genuine apology which he'd fully accepted, what if his initial doubts were still lurking inside him? He very well could have let go of those feelings but that didn't mean his sleeps would become peaceful again overnight. Who was to say it wouldn't take a bit of time for all that to unravel itself? Then there was the belief that some sense of unease was floating in his sea of thoughts but as to why it was there in the first place, that wasn't a question he had an answer for. Or – and he hoped this was the case – maybe his outlandish, unexplainable dreams would soon come to an end and not bother to wreck havoc on him again.

A few days after he'd experienced the eerie nightmare, Peeta was starting to feel sick. His nose had become stuffy, he had a bit of a headache and there was a consistent amount of phlegm lodged in the back of his throat. So he decided he'd stay home for the day while resting and if all went well and he had a speedy recover, then he'd no doubt be back at school the following day.

While Peeta was home resting in bed, Katniss went about her day like she normally did. She went to her classes, hung out with Madge on free and when lunch came, she stopped by her locker to get her lunch before joining her friends in the cafeteria. That was the plan, but she hadn't expected a particular someone to walk up to her and ask to speak with her. When she turned to see who it was, she saw that it was Gale and though he had a small smile on his face, he looked like he had something to say.

"Hey, Catnip," said Gale.

"Hi, Gale," she answered with a friendly tone. "What's up?"

"Nothing much," he said with a casual shrug. He was then silent for a moment before saying, "Katniss, there's uh...there's something I wanted to talk to you about. I was debating about whether to tell you now or wait, but I figured I might as well just tell you now. I really wasn't sure if I wanted to but I'd have to tell you eventually so I guess now would be the best time."

"Okay, about what?"

He sighed quietly and said, "Actually, I...I wanted to talk to you about you and Peeta."

"Is everything alright?" she asked curiously. "You're not feeling upset or jealous or anything, are you? I mean, you told me you were cool with everything and that you didn't care about us being together so I figured—"

"No, I am," he said reassuringly. _Of course, Catnip. I'm alright with it as far as you know. You just keep thinking that though. Let's not complicate things._ "It's not so much you and Peeta I wanted to talk about. I wanted to talk about...us. You and me, I mean."

"Everything okay?" she asked, wondering where he was heading with this conversation.

Gale dropped her gaze for only a second before meeting her eyes once more and what she saw in his eyes was a look of sadness. She hadn't seen that kind of look on Gale very often and it was rare that she'd ever seen him genuinely sad, but that was all that was in his gaze right now. The color of grey in his eyes looked softer than usual and all she could wonder was what was possibly on his mind. She'd hoped when she'd first heard his voice that he'd be coming for a quick chat or to give her good news or something other than what he was about to tell her.

"I'd really rather not have to say this, but—"

"It's not bad news, is it?" _I've never seen him like this._ _He's not mad, upset and he doesn't sound jealous, so why's he acting like this?_

"Well, no," said Gale with a shrug.

"It's okay," said Katniss, locking eyes with him. "Just say it then. If it's not bad, then just come out and say it."

"Alright," he said and with a sigh, told her frankly, "Katniss I...I think I might be falling in love with somebody else." _Now to see how she'll respond._

Katniss didn't answer right away. She let those words sink in and though it wasn't what she'd expected to hear, it actually wasn't bad news at all. If Gale truly was discovering that he had feeling for another girl, then he'd never again have to feel jealous or envious towards Peeta being with her. Suddenly she was hoping that whoever this girl was, she'd make Gale a happy guy so that both he and she could be happy.

"Really?" she asked in a serious tone. "That's...that's great, Gale. How long have you known her?"

"Well, not that long, honestly," he admitted. "But I just can't help feeling something for her, you know? We've spent a bit of time together so far and she's made me smile and laugh and...and we've just been having a lot of fun together. I didn't think I'd start to feel this way about her, but I am. I didn't even think I'd start to have feelings for someone this quickly, but you never know what'll happen when you talk to people."

"What's her name?" asked Katniss.

"Cashmere," said Gale. "She's in my geography class. It was kind of funny how we met. You know how I kept saying how I didn't have any friends in that class and that I was kind of a loner?"

"Yeah."

"Well, there was this project," he went on. "And I didn't really have a partner and neither did she, so we kind of got stuck together since everybody else already had a partner. Then we started sitting together and talking and then soon started hanging out. She doesn't share the same free as me but we've hung out a lot at lunch lately. We started out as friends, hanging out and chatting but then it just grew into something more. I wondered if there really was something between us or if it was just all in my head, but there definitely is something between us."

"Gale, I'm really happy to hear that," said Katniss sincerely. "So does this mean you'll still want to be friends with me? That probably sounds like a silly question to ask someone who's your best friend." She paused, and then added, "I guess I just meant that because you've liked me for a long time and I wasn't sure what to think of it all."

"No, that's fine," he laughed. "Of course we're still gonna be friends, Katniss! I've just felt so bad about how I was treating you about being with Peeta and it's almost like ever since I've started spending time with Cashmere I've realized what a jerk I was. I hate thinking back on it, but I'm just glad I've stopped giving you guys a hard time, Peeta especially."

"You weren't a jerk," she told him. "You were just jealous, that's all. But people get jealous all the time. So you yelled a bit? So what? We all get mad and I know you've always had trouble controlling your anger so I didn't think much of it. And you weren't even that bad. Some guys will stay jealous for a lot longer than you did. And I know you said some kind of mean things about Peeta but it was obvious you didn't mean them, right?"

"No, I didn't," he told her softly. _You're so easy to fool, Katniss. It's not even a game anymore. How's it a game when I can pretty much say whatever I want and you'll always believe it? You keep believing it though because you're only making this whole thing that much easier. I'm just reeling you in like fish on a line._

He then continued, "I was just so mad about not getting to be with you. But then I felt so selfish and soon I got scared that I might even lose you if I kept acting like that. It took me a while to see that you and Peeta love each other but once I knew how much you really cared about him, it was like a punch to the head for me. I knew I had to smarten up and quit acting like a jerk. I hope you can forgive me for acting like that because I don't know what I'd do if something silly like that ruined our friendship, especially since we've been friends for so long."

"Gale, really, it's not a problem," said Katniss, putting a hand on his shoulder. "That's all part of the past now anyway. That doesn't matter anymore. The important thing is I'm happy with Peeta and now you're happy with Cashmere. Everyone's happy."

 _Oh, this is too easy_ , thought Gale and had to keep from bursting out with laughter. _It's almost a joke._ _Hate to say this Katniss but you're just so stupid. I love ya, but you're stupid as hell. You really_ _think I'm just gonna go and find myself another girl? You really think I'd go and do that after crushing on you for four years?_ _Who the hell do you think I am? You think I got the hots for that Cashmere chick? Sure, she's a looker and a good one at that but no way can she compare with the Girl on Fire. No, I've still got my eyes on you Catnip and whether you like it or not...I'm not going anywhere_. _We're just getting started._

"And you and I still get to be friends," he said with a smile.

"Best friends," Katniss concluded with a smile. "And that's not gonna change."

 _Yeah, we'll be more than friends in a while_ , he thought, and could hardly wait for the day that Katniss Everdeen would finally be his. With each passing day, it felt like that moment was getting closer and closer and if he went on playing his cards right, then his wait would soon be over. _You keep spending time with Bread Boy because he ain't gonna be around forever. Once I get him out of the picture, it's just gonna be you and I, Catnip. No more spending time painting and baking. Soon it's gonna be you and I, and we got a lot of catching up to do._

Gale chuckled, gave her a hug and then said, "I'd better go. I told Cashmere I'd be meeting her for lunch." With a final wink, he started down the hall and hollered back over his shoulder, "Later, Catnip."

"See ya," she answered, and then turned and started in the opposite direction. She'd only begun walking for a few seconds before calling out, "Gale!"

He turned, glanced over his shoulder and asked, "Yeah?"

"I really am happy for you," Katniss told him. "I know it upset you seeing Peeta and I together but I'm happy you've found someone. You're a good guy and I know you're gonna make this girl happy. And just so you know, you deserve to have someone in your life."

With a little smile of appreciation, he answered, "Thanks, Catnip."

With that, the two started down opposite sides of the hallway. No longer was Gale's faced locked in a smile, and that was because it was now locked in a permanent, arrogant smirk. Once more he'd proven victorious and the pieces were only starting to come together more easily, and more effectively. It all felt so effortless now, like he now knew exactly how to play this game as if he himself had crafted the rules.

 _Glad to hear that, Katniss_ , he thought to himself. As students passed him, he briefly zoned in to what they were discussing and found most chatting about homework, drama, friends, what movie they were going to that night and what party they'd be attending the following night. _Glad to hear you think I really am done obsessing over you. So while you're still getting all snug with Bread Boy, I'll spend some time with this girl, and we'll see where things go from there._

Katniss was pleased to know that Peeta was doing well and within a few days, he was back at school. While at home, he was able to keep up with homework and assignments which Katniss made sure to drop off at his house every day. Along with that, he made sure to eat plenty of soup and drink plenty of liquids and not get out of bed unless it was really necessary like going to the bathroom. Any bit of work he was required to complete for art, biology and math were both started and finished. It had been weird not having him around at school and though Katniss had her friends for company, it just wasn't the same as spending time with Peeta. She chuckled to herself thinking that if she missed him when he was gone for merely a few days, how she'd get by if he was gone for muchlonger than that.

 _I don't know what I'd do_. _It's too...too lonely without him_.

On the day of his return, the two decided to head over to their special place down by the lake and spend some time there before heading home. An hour ago they'd just started a new project in art and it was the most exciting and interesting one yet. Each student along with their partner was required to plan, construct and paint a mask of their very own. The actual building of the mask would be done with teamwork and both individuals would help build it together. The painting and decorating of the mask, however, would be done somewhat separately. Mr. Odair had suggested for each mask to have two parts to it, and that each person would color and decorate a different portion. That way the mask would be done both jointly and individually. Peeta and Katniss had already written in their notes what they'd like to paint on their portion of the mask. Peeta was going with a "bakery" themed idea and planned on painting anything from cookies, cakes, cupcakes, brownies and bread onto his. Katniss had chosen to paint mockingjays on hers but rather than paint them each their normal black-and-white color, she'd paint them in various colors and give it a rainbow kind of feel.

When they got there, the two stopped for a moment and looked out at the impressive view. The water was just as calm and beautiful as always; there was a light wind stirring in the trees; wildflowers of every color were spread out before them and the silence was tranquil and soothing. They both agreed that this was their perfect place if ever they needed time for themselves or a quiet place to think or a place where they could simply be _together_ without any interruptions.

They then took a seat where they normally sat which was behind the dozens of flowers and looked once more out on to the vast stretch of water.

"I love coming here," Peeta commented.

"I know," Katniss agreed. "It's just so...peaceful."

"It's like it's a place just for _us_ ," he said with a smile. "Isn't it?"

"Yeah, it kind of is," she answered, liking the idea. "It's only us whenever we come here, which is nice."

"I think I might start doing my drawings here," said Peeta thoughtfully. "It would definitely be a great spot for that. Maybe you and I could both do that. Ever since we first came here, I've been thinking of bringing all my supplies down here, so maybe we can start doing that."

"That's actually a good idea," she told him. "We could even do paintings of the trees and water and whatnot. Paint this whole place, you know?"

"Now _that_ would be a challenge," said Peeta, but he then broke out in a smile and said, "But a _fun_ one."

There was a brief pause, and then Katniss said, "I just thought of something."

"What?" asked Peeta curiously.

"You know the photo album Delly has of you?" she told him. "The one with the pictures of you and her as kids?"

Peeta nodded and said, "Yeah."

"I'd like to make one, too," said Katniss. "Of _us_ _._ Not when we were kids, but pictures of us being together. I've got so many pictures on my camera that I'd love to put them in an album or something. Then we'll always have that to look back on."

"I _love_ that," said Peeta. "It can be a book of memories for you and me. We can put in a picture of us down here by the lake, in art class or when you came over to help me study for math and we made that awesome cake." He chuckled and said, "I called it Peeta and Katniss's Cake. Remember?"

"Oh, I remember," she said laughing. "That'll definitely be one of the ones I put in."

"I know which photo can be first," he suggested. "It can be the first photo we see when we open the album."

"Which one?" she asked.

"That day we came down here," he said softly, a smile crossing his face at the joyous memory. "It was the day I told you how much I loved you and you told me _you_ felt the same way. It was the day we officially became a couple. Seems like a great photo to start the album off with, since that's where it _all_ began."

"Then that's the one that'll be first," she smiled. It made perfect sense to start the album off with the one photo that reminded them of the time they'd spent down at the lake which was where their relationship had reached an entirely new level.

"Almost forgot!" he said and quickly started digging through his bag. He found what he was looking for and pulled out a small bag of something orange-colored.

"Cheese buns," he smiled. "I made them yesterday and saved some for you. I'm pretty sure you'll like them. And I made sure to put extra cheese on these ones, so they're _really_ cheesy."

"They _look_ cheesy," she said, staring at the small buns with a hungry look in her eyes. It was then that she suddenly felt her mouth starting to water.

"Here, try one," he laughed and held one out to her.

She took it and lifted it to her nose while giving an eager and curious sniff. She then put it in her mouth, took a huge bite and when she swallowed it was like her whole face lit up. Her eyes grew wide and before she had time to tell him how terrific it tasted, she'd stuffed the rest of it in her mouth.

Peeta's response was to chuckle in amusement and toss her the bag while telling her, "I'll take that as a compliment."

"These are amazing," she said, taking a bite out of her second and it tasted even better than the first. She chewed, swallowed and asked him, "Can you start making these all the time?"

" _All_ the time?" he asked surprised, and then said with a smile, "That's a _lot_ of buns, sweetheart. I'm pretty good when it comes to baking, but I'm not that good. How about once or twice a week instead?"

She thought for a moment and then said, "That works too."

"Alright," he said with finality. "Every week you'll get to eat some of Peeta Mellark's Cheesy Cheese Buns."

She burst out laughing at the name and asked, "Do you _really_ call them that? Peeta Mellark's Cheesy Cheese Buns?"

"No," he admitted, but then grinned and said, "I just thought it sounded funny."

The two fell silent for a moment.

Peeta then turned his head and looked at Katniss and asked as if it were the only thing in the world he wanted right then, "Can you sing for me, Katniss?"

"Okay," she answered. "Do you want me to sing the Valley Song again? You seem to really like that one."

"Do you know any other songs?" said Peeta.

"There _is_ one," said Katniss. "I've only ever really heard it or sung it since I was little but I remember it. My father taught me the song and then I started singing the song on my own. I never understood what the song meant and neither did Prim, but the words of it always stuck with me, just like with the Valley Song. Whenever I'd sing it, Prim would make necklaces of rope to go with the song and we went on doing this for a while but then had to stop."

"How come?" asked Peeta, already feeling inquisitive as to what kind of song she was referring to. Would it sound similar to the Valley Song? Would it be soft, soothing and calming? Or would it be eerie and strange? Most important, would it be a song that would linger in his mind and end up becoming one he wished to hear often?

"Our mom hated it," said Katniss bluntly. "Prim and I never knew what about the song she didn't like because we were so young, but it was obviously she didn't want me singing it. And she didn't want Prim listening to the words and making all those rope necklaces. Bottom line was it was a song that made her face go white and her body go stiff. Anyway, she yelled at dad who then told me to forget the lyrics and pretend like he'd never taught me the song in the first place. But that was hard because the words in the song were stuck in my head. Going outside and spending time in the woods probably didn't help much either because the trees only made me think about the song all over again."

"What's the song called?" said Peeta finally. _It can't be anything like the Valley Song. If her mother didn't want her singing it and told her to forget she'd ever heard it then maybe this song isn't liked by that many people. I guess I'm still curious to hear it though, even if it does have a different feel to it. And I'm sure when Katniss sings it, it still sounds like the most beautiful song in the world._

"The Hanging Tree," she told him, and then went on to sing the eerie, but unforgettable song she'd known since she was a child. She hadn't sung the song in probably a few years time but in spite of this, the words were still perfectly fresh in her mind. Through all those years, the words had lodged themselves in her mind and as if they'd been glued there physically, they refused to leave.

 _Are you are you_

 _Coming to the tree_

 _Where they strung up a man they say murdered three_

 _Strange things did happen here_

 _No stranger would it be_

 _If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree_

As Peeta let the words float into his mind he was suddenly hit with an image. He then quickly realized that what he was actually seeing were the words themselves in the form of a picture. What he was seeing was the Hanging Tree itself and indeed there was a man strung up by a rope around his neck. He looked harder and it then hit him that the man dangling from the tree _was_ the murderer. The entire scene was clear as day and if it wasn't all unfolding in his head, he would have wondered if his eyes were truly staring at a tree and a man dangling lifelessly from one its branches.

 _Are you are you_

 _Coming to the tree_

 _Where the dead man called out for his love to flee_

 _Strange things did happen here_

 _No stranger would it be_

 _If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree_

The man was now calling out in a voice of death for his only lover to flee, but the truth hit Peeta instantly. The guy wasn't trying to save his love from the same fate – he was trying to lure her into it. Peeta was frozen in place and watched in silence as she slowly made her way up to the tree. It was too frightening to watch so with all the voice that was in him, Peeta yelled, " _Don't!_ " As if she'd heard him, the image of the woman vanished and Peeta felt a sense of blurriness as the whole scene grew all but dark.

 _Are you are you_

 _Coming to the tree_

 _Where I told you to run, so we'd both be free_

 _Strange things did happen here_

 _No stranger would it be_

 _If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree_

The man hanging from the tree was reappearing, along with the doomed woman. She was now almost at the tree and staring at the body that belonged to her deceased lover. She took the rope in her hands and looked once more to her dead husband.

 _Are you are you_

 _Coming to the tree_

 _Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me_

 _Strange things did happen here_

 _No stranger would it be_

 _If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree_

The woman now hung lifeless beside her husband and the whole thing then made sense to Peeta. All along, the man had been attempting to lure his wife into hanging side by side with him, and he'd succeeded. The image of the two lovers dangling from the tree was clear for only a second longer and then everything winked out.

Though the scene in his head was gone, he could still hear the mesmerizing voice of Katniss replaying the song over and over. Her voice was calming and soothing and there was only one thought that came to his mind at that very moment.

He looked her in the eyes and said softly, "You have no idea. The effectyou can have."

She gave him a smile and told him, "Maybe I'll do some more singing when we come back here, then."

"I'd _love_ that, sweetheart," said Peeta sincerely.

Katniss crawled up onto Peeta's lap and put her head on his shoulder and the two stayed like this for what felt like forever. He ran his fingers gently through her hair while occasionally stopping to caress her face. The warmth of his touch was like nothing she'd ever felt and gave her a sense of such safety and happiness that she never wanted to leave the feeling of being in his arms. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she and Peeta had been down here and she'd debated about what it would be like to have his arms around her, his breath tickling her neck and his lips pressed against her own. She'd been both curious and uncertain but ultimately, she'd been pleasantly surprised to realize just how intoxicating it was to feel his body so close to her own.

It was that day when their lips had touched the other's that one single realization came to her. At one point, she'd felt confused and unsure of where her feelings stood about the boy with the bread. But whenever she walked out of Madderson High and looked upon the one lone dandelion that she'd remembered noticing on her first day of school, everything became crystal clear.

She loved Peeta Mellark.

There were times even where her love felt so strongly for him that the thought of suddenly losing him was unbearably painful. How she could even go on without his friendship and loyalty, gentle guidance, goofy humour and enjoyable company, she had no idea. It was wondering how she'd get by in her life that it hit her that without a hint of a doubt, she was in love with this baker and artist.

"Stay with me?" she said quietly, and her voice was barely audible.

He gave her a soft, gentle kiss, pressed his forehead against hers and whispered, "Always." _I'll always stay with you, Katniss. And even though we haven't been together that long, I promise I'll be there whenever you need me, and I never break my promises._


	29. Chapter 29

**CHAPTER 29**

 **NOVEMBER**

When Peeta got home an hour later, his mind was already racing ahead to tomorrow's art class. He could hardly wait to get to work on the mask with Katniss because up till then, mostly everything they'd done in class had been independent, but now they were getting the chance to combine their skills to create something unique. This would be the first official assignment where he and Katniss would be teamed up and completing it together, and he knew it would be the greatest art class yet.

It was when he took a seat at the kitchen table to enjoy a cheese bun that he heard abrupt footsteps from behind him. Whoever it was that was approaching him said not a word, but it made no difference that they chose to be silent because he knew who it was. His parents were out doing some errands and Luchi was likely off with his friends so that left only one possible person to be creeping up behind him.

"What are you so happy about?" came his brother's familiar voice.

Peeta was about to answer but felt Rye's hand grabbing onto his shoulder and giving it an unpleasant squeeze. It felt like the nerves in his body were now screaming out of control but to his relief, it lasted only for a few seconds. He then felt the tingling in his shoulder fading and when he turned to look up at his brother, it didn't surprise him to see that Rye was grinning.

"Well?" said Rye impatiently, and still the smug little grin hadn't left his face. "You gonna tell me what you're so goddam happy about? What? Did Katniss baby give you a kiss today? You on top of the world because you're a boyfriend now? Because your Everdeen's guy? Huh? You feel special now?"

"No," said Peeta calmly while ignoring his brother's slurs. "Katniss and I get to work together on a project tomorrow in art class."

"Oh, how sweet," teased Rye with mock sympathy. He then reached over, snatched the bun out of Peeta's hand and stuffed it greedily into his mouth. He didn't even bother to wait till he was done eating to carry on talking. He was never a guy of manners, which meant he hardly ever chewed with his mouth closed, or made sure not to talk when his mouth was full of food. There was no doubt in his mind that cheese buns were amongst one of the greatest delicacies of his family's bakery. They were soft, warm and made with just the right amount of cheese that always left his mouth drooling and begging for more.

"Guess you're so horrible of an artist," said Rye while chewing loudly. "That you need your little girlfriend to help you get a passing grade. Poor Peeta. Can't even do his work by himself now."

"The assignment requires two people," Peeta explained. As always, he didn't raise his voice or start hollering out in hostility. He knew yelling at his bothersome brother wouldn't accomplish anything. It was better just to remain calm and not turn their conversations into violent, aggressive arguments. "I can't work on it by myself even if I wanted to."

"Liar," said Rye with a laugh, whose lips were now covered in cheesy crumbs. Not only that, but tiny bits on his chin kept dropping onto the table below him as he went on talking, though he didn't seem to care. "You're just a loser drawer that's starting to accept he can't draw for crap. I always knew you could never draw and now you're finally starting to see the truth – that you're nothing but a snot-nosed liar."

"Why would I lie Rye?" Peeta asked him. "What reason would I have to lie?"

"Because you're a no-good, hopeless sucker," was Rye's immediate answer. "That's why." When he saw that Peeta wasn't responding, he threw in cockily, "Oh, and don't even think of sneaking in another one of those buns. Do that and I'll just go tell Mom when she gets home, bring her out here and watch her smack your face till it's bleeding. Then when she's gone, I'll throw in a few punches of my own and who knows? Maybe I'll get lucky and you'll end up with a black eye or a broken nose. You want that? Because I do."

Again, no response came from his brother.

Instead, Peeta got up out of his chair and made his way over to the family room. He didn't bother look back to see if Rye was following because he figured he wasn't. He was probably already bored with Peeta and would now spend the rest of his night stuffing his face with junk. That, or he'd go right up to his room, lock the door and do what he usually did which was to watch TV and listen to music.

When Peeta stepped into the living room, he saw it was completely empty. Once in a while he'd catch Luchi in here on his phone or putting together a snack, but not often. Most days of the week, when he wasn't busy helping their parents out in the bakery, he'd be out with his friends for hours. Rye hung out here more often than Peeta would have liked and whenever the two were in the room together, there was always a fight. Of course, Peeta was never the one that got the fight going in the first place; it would be his pest of a brother. His father would occasionally come in here and take a short break to relax and talk to his son and these were times that Peeta enjoyed. He wished he and his father could share more of these moments, but that was pretty much impossible, considering that his wife was constantly at his throat demanding work to be done.

He took a seat in the very center of the couch and decided he was in the mood to watch some TV, if only for an hour or so. Since he only had a few math questions for homework that night, he'd relax for a bit before going and tackling them, and then he could fast-forward ahead to tomorrow's art class.

He was just about to settle down and watch a program that presented various ways to prepare, bake and decorate desserts...when the remote got snatched out of his hand. He should have seen it coming, considering that his cheese bun had been taken from him but he hadn't guessed that Rye would have gone so far as to follow him. He would have assumed the guy would have gotten bored and decided to spend the rest of the guy plugging away at video games or browsing the web on his phone. He'd hoped that his brother had been done with bothering him for the night, but it was too obvious the tormentor was just warming up.

"Hey bro. What's up?" Rye threw the remote up in the air, expertly caught it and gave Peeta an unnecessarily large grin.

"Nothing," said Peeta. "I was gonna watch some TV before starting my homework."

"Homework!" scoffed Rye. He shook his head in disbelief and said, "When are you gonna realize school's just one giant waste? Why you even bother with it, I'll never know. Then again, I'll never get why you do the crap you do. You're just stupid."

Peeta gave a sigh and said calmly, "Because school's important, Rye. It's important to get an education. Maybe you don't think it's important, but I do, and a lot of other people do too."

"Because you're all equally stupid!" he teased, and proceeded to change the channel. "You and all those other idiots out there trying to make something out of your life. Too bad my own brother has to be just like them. You think you'd be above that, Peeta. You think you'd see just how stupid school really is. Day after day we go to school and for what? To sit our ass in a chair for an hour and listen to some wacko teacher go on about crap? Why not just drop it all? What's the point?"

"I'd never do that," said Peeta firmly. "And Luchi didn't. He finished high school."

"Yeah, and look where he's at now!" Rye exclaimed. "Helping Mommy and Daddy bake bread and ice cakes! School really got him far, didn't it? Really using that old head of his, isn't he?"

"Maybe this is what he wants to be doing," offered Peeta, staring up at his brother. "Just because he's not in college doesn't mean his schooling was a waste. He seems to enjoy doing what he's doing so why does it matter if he's in college or not? And school's never a waste, Rye. It's always good to have education behind you because it could come in handy some day when you want to go out and apply for a job."

Rye laughed as if the whole topic amused him. He then took a seat next to Peeta, gave him a punch in the shoulder and shot back, "What he wants? Give me a break. Don't even know why you're still in school. You're just gonna end up like him, anyway. Give it a few years and your life will be nothing but decorating cakes with pretty pictures and burning bread. Why even bother with school? Ain't gonna get ya anywhere."

Peeta shook his head but still he was able to contain himself. Where any other person would have wasted no time in lunging at Rye and forcing him out of the room, that wasn't something Peeta would do. Violence just wasn't in his nature and he never would have even considered landing a punch to Ryder's face. Though others might have argued that a person like Ryder deserved a smack in the face to straighten him out and put him in his place, Peeta wasn't one to use his hands for violence. He used them only for baking, painting and other activities that required considerable patience. What he used instead to try and get through to people were words.

"I don't feel like arguing, Rye," said Peeta. "If you wanna watch TV, fine. It's all yours. But can you just let me go to my room and work on my homework? I have to get it done for tomorrow."

"I have to get it done for tomorrow," Rye repeated, mocking his brother.

"I mean it," said Peeta seriously. "I know you don't care about homework, but I do."

"I know you don't care about homework, but I do," Rye went on.

"Rye, I'm not joking around," he shot back sternly. "I have to get this done."

"Now where have I heard that before," said Rye with an obnoxious smirk. "Oh yeah! Only every other day of the week!" With the hopes of annoying his brother even more, he threw in, "I'm not joking around. I have to get this done."

"I gotta work on my math," uttered Peeta, more to himself than to Rye, whose only response was to snicker and give his brother the finger.

"Yeah, you go do that," his brother jeered. "Go work on your math even though you're probably gonna do a crap job on it anyway. Go do your two plus two equals four and two times two equals four because we all know how much you suck at math. Can't wait to see you three years from now still stuck in grade ten math and scraping by with hopeless D's because you don't know a thing about anything."

"That's not gonna happen," said Peeta with certainty.

"And what makes you think that?" Rye challenged, glaring at his brother.

"Because I've got Katniss helping me," was Peeta's answer. "She's the smartest person I know when it comes to math, and she's been helping me with everything. If there's anyone that'll get me a decent grade in math, it's Katniss."

Rye gave his brother a disgusted up-and-down look and his face stayed in that position for a solid minute. He hated Peeta always coming up with quick and clever comebacks to his insults because it was always so difficult for him to come up with something to throw back at him. He tried to be quick on his feet and think of what words he ought to say that would sound superior to the words coming out of his brother's mouth, but he always failed.

Like every other time, Rye came up empty. And as always, he said the one and only thing he usually said when he was unable to think of anything else.

"Whatever."

Peeta knew there was no use in staying there and letting Rye throw insult after insult at him when he had homework that had to get done. He had no doubt in his mind that his brother would follow him down the hall to his room and bother him some more but if that happened, he'd have no choice but to lock his door. It was annoying enough to have Rye constantly trash talking him but when Peeta had homework that had to get done, he couldn't let his brother get in the way of that. He'd do whatever he needed to get his work done. It didn't matter what he had to do either – locking his bedroom door, getting as much of it done at school as he could on free or during lunch, or even heading down to his and Katniss's special place by the lake – getting his schoolwork done was all that mattered.

With his mind now focused on going to his room and completing his homework, Peeta made his way out of the room. He didn't have to look back to know that Rye wasn't following and that meant maybe he'd be able to get those questions done after all. He figured Rye had found something on TV that would keep him busy for the rest of the night and if that was true, then he'd most definitely get those questions done and ready for tomorrow.

He was almost to his room when he decided to head into the kitchen and fetch something to eat while he worked on his math. It wasn't often he ever did his homework without having something to snack on and right then, he was feeling particularly hungry. He wasn't sure yet what he was craving – toasted bread with peanut butter, raspberry pastries, blueberry muffins or some biscuits with sour cream – but he knew he was in the mood for something warm, sweet and delicious.

It was walking into the kitchen and opening up the cupboards next to the fridge that he decided that what he wanted right then more than anything else was a blueberry muffin. Once he reached up to the highest shelf and set one on the counter, he opened up the fridge and took out the butter. Putting it in the microwave for just a few seconds and then spreading the right amount of the gooey stuff would make for an ideal snack. All he needed to make it a truly ideal snack would be a cool, fresh glass of milk to quench his thirst.

Once he had a plate with the muffin on it in one hand and a glass of milk in the other, he was all set to head back to his room and get started on those questions. He was just about to turn the other way and make his way there...if not for something that had so unexpectedly grabbed his attention. He hadn't noticed it while he'd been reaching up in the cupboards or fridge but he was now staring over at it and he was getting the strangest feeling that it was...staring back at him as well. Of course it wasn't really doing this but the instant his eyes fell on it, he was struck with a feeling that combined both curiosity and puzzlement. What was it doing out on the kitchen counter in the first place and more importantly, who had brought it there?

He only had to think about this for a couple of seconds till it hit him.

When he'd first arrived home from school, he'd passed the kitchen while heading to the bathroom and when he'd glanced into the room, he'd spotted his father standing next to the fridge. In those few seconds, he'd seen him turning a page and though Peeta hadn't been aware of what book he was exploring, he'd guessed it was another one of his cookbooks that he'd taken the time to casually flip through. This was indeed the case, though it hadn't actually been his father who'd been the one to glance through the album. What he'd been doing was searching for unique and fresh ideas that would help him formulate new, delicious recipes for the Mellark Bakery.

The person who had actually placed the book on the kitchen counter had been...Rye.

After coming across it in the bottom drawer of one of the tables in their living room, he'd spent only a few minutes debating about whether or not to look through it. He'd ultimately decided against it not so much because he cared about what was inside the book but rather, because his stomach was growling and he was never one to ignore opportunities for stuffing himself with treats. He'd ended up piling four particularly chocolately brownies onto a small plate which he'd then taken to his room to devour in a few simple, voracious bites. He'd enjoyed them so much that he'd completely forgotten to stuff the book back into the table's bottom drawer and so it had remained sitting on the kitchen counter...waiting for someone else to stumble upon it.

He hadn't guessed that later on that afternoon, Peeta would enter the kitchen to prepare a quick snack for himself before starting his homework...and would notice it.

At a first glance, it appeared to be some kind of book. If it was, it must have weighed a lot because from where he was standing, Peeta could see it was thick and contained what looked like a hundred pages. Any other time, Peeta wouldn't have thought much of this because items getting left out on the kitchen counter wasn't exactly odd but for some reason, something in his head was telling him to consider taking a closer look.

He left the muffin and milk next to the fridge and walked over to the counter where the heavy-looking book was to see what kind of book this was. What he expected to see was a typical book that either his parents or Luchi had forgotten to put away and had left it there. He wouldn't have suspected Rye flipping through books because Rye just wasn't the sort of guy that spent his time reading or doing anything that involved books, written works or literature in general. Most likely he would have expected the book to be one of his father's, especially since he was a man that owned just about every cookbook out there and was always searching for new and inspirational ideas.

He only had to glance once at the cover of the book to realize that it wasn't his father's. There was no question about that, and there was also no arguing that it didn't belong to either his mother or Luchi. What he was now staring wide-eyed at on the front of this book proved that all too clearly. It might have shocked him and left him feeling bewildered at what the words on this book could possibly mean but he couldn't run away from the simple, evident truth that was right in front of him. He could have refused to believe what his eyes were seeing but that still wouldn't have changed the words that were on the cover of the book. Without even realizing it, his hands had started to shake just the slightest and even when he'd read the three words countless times, he still couldn't believe it. It was like his body was entering a state of absolute shock and all he could do was go on staring incredulously at these simple words while wondering what it could all mean. He'd completely forgotten about the muffin and milk because what he was now staring at made everything else around him seem and feel so trivial.

In front of him was a giant photo album but the fact that it was a photo album that held a collection of pictures wasn't what had caused him to become speechless. It was the three words written on the front that he couldn't seem to wrap his head around which by that point felt like it was spinning out of control. In those few minutes, his head and mind had long since gone off track and were now spiralling in a random, muddled sea of confusion. Of all the words that could have been marked on the front of this album, not in a million years could he have anticipated what he'd end up staring at with such growing wonder.

The words printed on the cover of the photo album were: RYE AND PEETA. The words themselves looked to have been inscribed by a child and were written with Crayola crayons of all colors of the rainbow – brick red, sunset orange, lemon yellow, inchworm green, midnight blue and royal purple. The writing was somewhat scribbled and smudged but not enough so that it made the words difficult to make out. Even if they'd been written out by a person with the world's shakiest hand and even if the words had been horribly smudged...still Peeta would have been able to make out the words that were marked on the album's cover.

"Our scrapbook," he uttered softly.

He couldn't take his eyes off the words. It didn't matter how many times he re-read and re-read them because nothing was changing, despite how shocked and taken aback he was. These three words were so incredibly simple, yet Peeta had the sense that they were so much more than just three ordinary words. He feared he was wrong and just hoping for the impossible but what if he was right? Could it be true that in the pages of this album would be a world he'd always thought about and wanted to revisit? A world that he'd spent so many sleepless nights pondering about and just as many nights wishing the answers to all his questions would make themselves known? He feared he was hoping for too much. What he feared was that as soon as he opened the album and gazed upon the first page, his heart would sink and he'd be struck with the unfortunate truth.

He knew there was all but one way to find out, and that was to open the album, look inside and unlock all the potential truths that for so many years, he would have been unaware of.

"It's all in here," Peeta whispered under his breath. Right then, he was feeling so overwhelmed that he was starting to have doubts of what sort of truths this album really contained. But he was also feeling overwhelmed in the sense that his heart was aching to glance inside and after having gone so many years living in the shadows, there was no question that he needed to see what this album could tell and show him. "Everything I ever wondered about is...is in here."

He couldn't stand there thinking about it any longer because his anticipation was only intensifying. Goosebumps covered both his arms, his throat felt like it was becoming uncomfortably dry and his mind was racing in so many different directions. If he went on waiting for even a few more minutes, he'd likely drive himself insane and that wasn't what he needed at that moment. What he wanted and needed was the truth, the truth he'd spent too long wishing would come to him and now that it had...there was no controlling the emotions that were surfacing inside him.

It was time for him to re-discover the friendship that had once been theirs.

There was no turning back now so without giving himself time to think about anything else, Peeta took of the album's cover, carefully opened it, looked inside...and wanted to cry. What his eyes first saw were multiple photos that had been slipped into individual plastic covers and on the first two pages, he guessed there must have been twenty of them. He figured what he'd see would be a number of photos but after scrutinizing each photo thoroughly, his heart began pounding out of his chest. Every hair on his body was now standing on end at what was staring so plainly up at him and he found that his mouth refused to close. The sight was just too incredible, too unpredicted and too great to believe to be true.

But it was.

What he was staring at were countless photos of himself and his brother Rye when the two had been children. Even when he'd been young, Peeta's eyes had still been as blue as ever and his blond hair had still fallen over his forehead in smooth waves. As for Rye, his eyes had been just as brown and though he'd only been young, his thick blond hair had still been rather longish and kept on falling over his eyes. Not much had changed about the two in terms of their physical appearances but Peeta wasn't spending much time acknowledging this because there was something far more important that he was working hard to wrap his head around. His mind felt like it was pounding terribly but not so much because it was angry, scared or upset but because it was so emotionally overwhelmed.

Even when Peeta swallowed and then opened his mouth to as if wanting to speak, no words came out. There was nothing he could even begin to think of saying; all he could do was go on standing there like he was frozen in place and continue to stare down at the various photos. His mind was in overdrive at what these photos were now revealing to him and it was such a vast, enormous truth that for year after year, he'd been totally unaware of. But he was now staring this truth straight in the face and despite how unreal and dreamlike it felt, there was no denying what these pictures were telling him.

Peeta shook his head in amazement and in an almost inaudible voice, murmured, "Where've you been all this time? Where'd you go, Rye?"

He had plenty other questions but none of them mattered even a little right then because all he could focus on were the photos in this album. Judging by how large of an album it was, no doubt it held at least a hundred pages, which meant there could be dozens more photos inside. To think he was able to revisit a time where he and Rye had gotten along though felt enormously saddening. To be reminded that he and the guy that was his brother had actually been friends and did things together, left a massive hole in his heart that was all too real. Prior to discovering the album, he'd always felt a longing to re-connect with Rye that had never left him but even now, he knew it wouldn't be leaving him. If anything, his longing would only increase because now he remembered how strong a friendship he and Rye had once had.

The biggest question now was: _could they ever return to what they once shared?_

The very thought left Peeta dangerously close to crying and though a single tear was rolling down his cheek, he quickly wiped it away. What he needed was to look at each and every one of the photos that had been placed into this album. It had been a considerably long and tiresome wait but he was now able to receive a precious glance into the childhood that had been his and Rye's. For even a few minutes, he could take this opportunity to revisit the time when the two had been six years old.

In the first photo, he and Rye were sitting at the kitchen table and both their faces were covered with brown, chocolately goodness. Even so, there was no overlooking the huge, excited smiles that were on both of their faces. In front of them was a large mixing bowl and inside were all the mixed and blinded ingredients that they were using to prepare a delicious pan of brownies. Their father was of course the one doing most of the work but his two sons were the little taste testers and when the pan was ready and in the oven, Peeta and Rye were given their own special task – licking what was left over in the bowl.

"I love chocolate!" Rye exclaimed and once he'd finished licking his spoon clean, he was already reaching into the bowl for more. "I could eat it all the time!"

"Me too!" Peeta agreed. "It's the best."

"Mhm!" said Rye, running his finger along the edge of the bowl. "Warm, gooey and just the best thing ever!" He raised it to his mouth, licked his finger clean, swallowed, and then looked over at Peeta. With his face still coated in chocolate, he instantly broke out laughing and all his younger brother could do was watch him curiously and with great confusion.

"What?" he asked, for he hadn't yet caught on to what Rye was finding so remarkably funny.

"Your face!" Rye chuckled, and had to keep from falling out of his chair. "It's...it's got chocolate all over it."

Peeta ran both his hands over his face and realized his face was definitely covered with mix. He had only to glance over at Rye's face to see that he wasn't the only Mellark brother in the kitchen whose face was messy and gooey.

"So is yours!" Peeta pointed out, and then it was he who was now in a fit of laughter.

"Yours is messier though," said Rye, and was now scraping the bowl clean with his spoon while making sure not to miss a single spot.

Peeta reached in to receive more of the mouth-watering delicacy, and then shot back with an amused smile, "Is not."

"Is too, Peeta!" grinned Rye, who was clearly holding back his laughter. "You've got chocolate on your nose!"

"You've got it on your lips!" Peeta countered with a smile.

"Yours is still messier, little bro!"

"Is not."

"Is too!"

"Nope!"

"Yes!"

"Nuh uh!"

"Uh huh!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

The two then gave each other such an intense, unblinking stare as if they had officially entered the world's most intense staring contest. This lasted for all but a few seconds till they'd both let their laughter consume them and they were now laughing harder than ever. Even when their father returned to check up on the cake, his two sons still hadn't lowered the volume and all he could do was shake his head and wonder what on earth they were laughing so hard about.

"We're cake monsters," Rye declared with a toothy smile. All his teeth were covered in brown though and all Peeta could do was giggle at the hilarious sight.

"You are!" guffawed Peeta, pointing at his brother's face. "Look at your teeth!"

Suddenly, Rye heard a distinct rumbling coming from his stomach that even Peeta could hear.

"I'm still hungry," said Rye. A quick glance at the mixing bowl and when he saw it was a hundred percent empty with nothing left, a small frown crossed his face.

"Dad put the brownies in the oven," Peeta reminded him. "We can eat those when they're done."

"I know," Rye nodded, and then said with a playful smile, "But brownie monsters like that bowl stuff, you know? That's our favourite! Brownies are the best in the whole wide world, Peeta."

"We'll have to make more than," Peeta concluded.

"Tomorrow?" asked Rye with shining eyes.

"Tomorrow," said Peeta and once more the two burst out laughing and went on laughing till it hurt and even then it felt impossible to stop. If there was one thing these two almost always ended up doing together...it was laughing. By the time the brownies had come out of the oven and Peeta and his brother were at the table helping themselves to a piece, the laughter continued just as strongly.

"Slow down, Rye," warned Peeta, who was observing his older brother in amazement. He'd never seen someone devour a brownie so quickly but a smile always lit up his face as he watched Rye swallow one right after the other.

"Don't worry, Peeta," he said reassuringly, and gave a sigh of contentment. "I'm okay."

"But what if you choke?" said Peeta, staring wide-eyed at his brownie-loving brother.

Rye placed another brownie on his plate, smiled at Peeta and announced with conviction, "No need to fear, little bro! Like I said, I'm a brownie monster and we brownie monsters never choke on our favourite treats."

"How many have you eaten so far?" asked Peeta curiously.

Rye thought for a moment, and then answered, "Three."

"Three!"

"Three," Rye nodded, chuckling under his breath.

"What if you get sick?" said Peeta, feeling as though two brownies was plenty enough for him.

"I won't get sick," promised Rye, licking his lips hungrily. "I'm the only kid in all of District Twelve who can eat a whole pan of brownies."

"Dad did always say you're...uh, what was the word?"

Rye shrugged and said, "I forget."

"Oh yeah!" Peeta exclaimed. "Amazing. I think that was what he said. He said you're amazing at eating brownies."

"I'm not amazing," Rye corrected and in a humorously dramatic tone, proclaimed, "I'm brownie-mazing!"

"And you're my brownie brother," added Peeta in amusement.

Soon the kitchen was filled once more with Rye and Peeta's uproarious, undying laughter and neither even knew what time it was when they finally left to go play outside.

"We baked together," whispered Peeta mournfully and his eyes were locked on the photo. Anyone would have seen the sheer longing that filled them and how much he was fighting not to let what he was seeing send him into a state of grief. _We used to bake everything together and now we...we do it alone. Always. I bake my stuff and he bakes his, but we never do it together. Not anymore..._

Shifting his gaze to the second photo, Peeta saw himself and Rye out in the backyard and the closer he looked, the more it appeared as if they were dressed up in some kind of costume. It didn't take him long to recognize what they were pretending to be – pirates. What with the traditional black hats, baggy shirts, vests, black pants, brown slip-on boots, eye patches, plastic swords, gold jewellery and beards and moustaches, they couldn't have been seen as anything else but pirates.

Just like with the first photo, it felt like the very picture itself was coming to life right in front of his eyes. In a matter of seconds, Peeta was brought back to a time when he and his older brother had taken on the role of pirates. The backyard was their ocean, the swingset was their ship but it soon hit them that there was one simple, yet important thing that was missing.

"Ahoy, Peeta!" called Rye from the top of their ship. "Ship's all ready for sailing! Gotta hurry though. It's leaving soon!" From below, he saw Peeta hurrying over to the wooden stairs where he carefully started his way up.

"Ahoy, matey!" said Peeta, approaching his brother. "Nice day, isn't it?"

"Very nice!" Rye declared while staring up at the cloudless sky. "Great day to sail."

"Perfect weather," Peeta agreed.

"Yes, but—" and Rye scratched his head as if trying hard to remember something, but he came up empty.

"What is it?"

"We're forgetting something," Rye told him, snapping his fingers. "Arr!"

"Arr!" said Peeta and he too began thinking hard. He then shot Rye a confused look and asked, "What are we trying to remember?"

"I don't know," Rye admitted, then went on, "It just feels like something's missing. Something important."

"Missing? But we have a ship, an ocean, we're dressed up. What's missing?"

Rye fixed his eyes out on the grass that had become their vast ocean and then...he knew.

"Sharks!"

"Sharks!" Peeta exclaimed, his eyes going wide. "Blimey, Rye. Uh...you sure you want sharks around?"

"Yo-ho-ho, Peeta!" chuckled Rye with an enthusiastic smile. "We want an adventure right?"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Then we need a big bad shark!" declared Rye with an excited laugh. "You can't have pirates without sharks. Or sharks without pirates."

"But they've got teeth, Rye," warned Peeta. "And they're big, and fast, and, and they've got huge teeth, and they're scary and...and they've got teeth, Rye!"

"No worries, Peeta," Rye assured him, putting an arm around his shoulder jovially. "A mean old shark is no match for us pirates! And we're the best pirates this sea's ever seen."

"Well, that's true," said Peeta letting a smile creep onto his face which caused an even bigger smile to appear on his brother's. "We do make pretty good pirates."

"Gonna have to be careful though," whispered Rye cautiously. "Sharks like treasure, and we've got lots of treasure on our ship. All our shiny gems, crystals and rubies will get stolen if one of those beasties finds them!"

"You don't think we're gonna, uh...end up as shark bait, do you?"

"Never!" was Rye's fearless response, and he raised an arm in the air while shouting out boldly, "You're no match for Peeta and I shark! Give us your best because you can't beat us. You'll never get our treasure. You'll have to—"

"Rye?" Peeta interrupted.

"Yeah?"

"Where's the shark?"

Rye opened his mouth, cocked his head to the left and then said suddenly, "Oh yeah! We don't have a shark. Hmm...we have to find one then."

"Where can we find one?" asked Peeta, looking around in puzzlement. "I don't see any."

"I see one," Rye pointed out with discernible excitement. "He's a big one too, mate! Biggest I ever seen! He...wow! This shark's real big! Biggest of the big! Brace yourself! We have our shark, Peeta!"

"Where!" Peeta exclaimed with just as much excitement.

"There," said Rye pointing to their right, and when Peeta shifted his gaze to their right, a chuckle escaped him almost instantly.

"You're right. That shark is big!"

Rye waved his arms vigorously over his head and yelled out, "Hi Luchi!"

Luchi stopped, glanced over his shoulder, gave them a wave and called out, "Hey! Cool costumes."

"What are you doing?" Rye asked him.

"Going inside for a snack," was Luchi's answer. "Gonna have some pastries!"

"No you're not," said Rye with one of his usual, humorous grins.

Luchi gave him a puzzled expression and said, "What do you mean?"

"You can't go inside!" was Rye's response.

"Why not?" said Luchi and gave him a befuddled look.

"Sharks don't go inside," laughed Rye and he only laughed even harder when he saw Luchi raising his brows in obvious confusion.

Peeta couldn't hold back his laughter any longer, so he explained to Luchi, "Sorry Luchi. But we pirates need a shark to battle and since you're—"

Luchi put both his hands on his hips and cut him off by saying, "And let me guess? You want me to be the shark, don't you pirates?"

"Yes!" proclaimed Rye and Peeta in unison.

Luchi sighed, shook his head and said with the tiniest smile, "Fine, but this sharks' hungry so I'd watch out if I were you. Gonna throw you both in the water and then gobble you up like shrimp. And now that I think of it, I'm in the mood for some shrimp!"

"Come on, Peeta!" said Rye eagerly, pulling out his sword from its sheath. "Time to fight the battle for the Mellark Ship."

"Right behind you," said Peeta, and the two hurriedly made their way down the wooden steps and out onto the grass where the sly, ravenous shark was lying in wait for them. Up close, it was far more intimidating in size with a huge, thick tail and several rows of jagged teeth that would finish them off with one effortless bite.

"Shiver me timbers!" shouted Rye in shock and ran up beside Peeta. He was out of breath and so caught up in the scuffle that he could hardly speak. "He's gaining on us, Peeta! Fast! Lot faster than I thought we'd be! What do we do?"

"Run faster!" panted Peeta, making sure to keep the formidable shark in all corners of his central and peripheral vision. Letting it sneak off and change direction would have been the guaranteed doom of them and their treasure-laden ship. "We gotta outrun him or else we're shark bait!"

"We can beat him, Peeta!" said Rye, and the excitement was growing in his voice. "Nobody beats us pirates! We're not gonna be shark bait today!"

"We'll see about that!" growled Luchi, and the shark was soon on them in a matter of seconds and the battle for the Mellark Ship was now officially underway.

Peeta and Rye teamed up and boldly fought against the intimidating shark showing little to no fear. The two moved swiftly and speedily but it was Rye who moved the fastest and did circles around Luchi till he swore the world was spinning. That was when the pirates grabbed the golden opportunity to pin down the shark and encourage him to surrender or suffer the consequences.

Of course, the shark didn't go down without a fight and so the battle between shark and pirates continued.

"I'm gonna swallow you pirates up!" threatened the shark, creeping closer towards them. "And then I'll take every piece of treasure that's up in that ship of yours!"

"Time to finish him off, Peeta!" Rye announced and with a loud war cry, shouted, "Attack!"

"Get him!" Peeta responded with just as loud of a shout and soon the two were running full speed towards the enemy.

After a round of wrestling, struggling, resisting and tussling around, the shark was pinned down with no chance of escaping. One pirate he likely could have defeated but the swiftness of two was proving too great of a challenge, and so all he could do now was throw in the towel. There was no denying that the pirates had prevailed in what they all agreed was a well-fought combat but the pirates weren't quite done with the conquered shark just yet.

"Time to walk the plank, you greedy fish!" announced Rye, holding his sword up to Luchi's neck.

Luchi's eyes widened, but he gave an amused chuckle and said, "Alright, pirate. I'll walk the plank. But can this tired shark eat some pastries after?"

Rye and Peeta exchanged looks, nodded, and then Rye told him, "Sure."

"Alright, time to walk the plank then," said Luchi, making his way up the wooden steps. When he'd reached the top of the tower, he shrugged and asked, "Where is it?"

"Oh, well," said Rye, looking around. "Umm...how about—"

"The slide!" threw in Peeta.

"Yeah, the slide! Good idea, Peeta!" said Rye. He then called up to Luchi, "Down the slide you go, shark bait!"

So with the shark's fins – which were of course really Luchi's arms – tied behind its back, the monster hobbled over to the slide. It then rushed down the length of the slide and returned once more to the now calm, gentle seas. Then, the two pirates exchanged high-fives and shouted out in victory at having overcome the nastiest, most feared shark of the open seas while protecting the Mellark Ship.

"We make good pirates, don't we, Peeta?" asked Rye and his face was still wearing a smile of triumph.

"Sure do!" said Peeta, giving him another high-five. "Let's go celebrate!"

"With pastries?" said Rye eagerly.

"Pastries."

"Gotta watch out though," he warned quietly as the two made their way over to the door. "That shark will be in there."

"We can beat him!" said Peeta with the same enthusiasm he so often heard in his older brother.

Rye's only reply to this was to clap Peeta on the shoulder and exclaim, "Yo-ho-ho!"

Peeta felt like his whole self was entering a trance that he knew he wouldn't be able to break out of. The immense longing was working hard to swallow him up and he feared it might just do that if he kept on viewing these photos...but he had to. These were memories of a childhood that he and Rye had shared and despite how painful it was to know it was a friendship that had died so long ago, he had to keep looking. In a way, he felt like he was emotionally torturing himself but these were photos that had been kept from him for far too long, and they were the only things that could help him to develop a better understanding of his changed brother.


	30. Chapter 30

**CHAPTER 30**

 **NOVEMBER**

In the third photo, he and Rye were smiling just like in the other two and like in the first, their faces were a total mess. They were once more in the kitchen but their faces weren't coated with warm, gooey chocolate. They were now covered with liquids, crumbs, scraps and pieces that had come from all sorts of foods – tomato sauce and noodles, meatballs, bread, cheese, pickles, squashed blueberries, raspberries and blackberries and slices of countless slices of pepperoni.

Their father had prepared it to be a dinner of homemade spaghetti, meatballs with cheese and fresh bread.

What it actually ended up being was the one thing Rye and Peeta had always wanted to take part in – and that was a food fight.

It was when Rye was watching Peeta enter the kitchen that he developed the greatest idea and from there, it all unfolded within seconds.

"Food fight!" Rye hollered, and rushed over to the bowl of noodles. Reaching his hand in, he scooped out a handful, raised it over his head and with a huge grin, threw it squarely at Peeta's head.

"Hey—" shouted Peeta and immediately felt noodles dropping onto his head. He gave Rye the longest stare and then wasted no time scampering over to the table as well. He didn't stop to think about what he wanted to throw because all that mattered was choosing and tossing.

"Take this!" laughed Peeta and it was then that Rye felt his shirt become soaked with sauce.

"Oh, it's on, little bro!" Rye warned, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Bring it on," Peeta challenged, giving a quick, thoughtful glance to the fridge.

What followed was a clash of constant tossing, flinging, hurling, diving, ducking and dodging. Noodles fell onto the heads of both Rye and Peeta; their shirts became drenched with gooey sauce; bread crumbs and cheese slices were scattered in between their blond strands of hair; pickles were on their arms, legs and on top of their shoes and their once pale skin was of a reddish-bluish color after having been struck by an onslaught of blueberries and raspberries. Hands down, it had been the most entertaining thirty minutes they'd ever spent in the kitchen. Neither had ever expected what fun tossing and throwing food around could be and it was for sure a thing they'd plan on doing again.

In another photo, the two were spending the afternoon out in the yard and Rye was teaching Peeta the ins and outs of baseball. Being only six years old, he didn't a whole lot to the actual game; what he liked doing was having the ball tossed to him so he could swing his bat as hard as he could and watch the ball go speeding into the sky. It had taken him weeks of dedicated practice to notice improvements in his batting and he was all too eager to help his little brother who didn't know a thing about the sport.

"This is your glove," Rye instructed excitedly, and helped Peeta slip the glove snugly onto his hand. "You use this to catch the ball. So when I throw you the ball, you try and catch it."

"Okay," said Peeta with a nod. Noticing the long, wooden object Rye was holding with both hands, he asked curiously, "What's that?"

"This is a baseball bat," Rye explained, holding it out so Peeta could see it more closely. "This is what you use to try and hit the ball. You use the glove to catch it, and the bat to hit it."

"Oh, okay," said Peeta. He nodded again and said eagerly, "You're really good at hitting the ball. Do you think I can be like you?"

"It's easy!" Rye reassured him, and with a keen smile, suggested, "Wanna get started?"

"Yeah. What should I do first?"

"Stay there and I'll throw the ball to you," Rye told him with obvious excitement. After backing up till he'd reached a far enough distance, he positioned himself to throw the ball and called out, "I'm gonna throw it to you and you try and catch it, okay?"

Peeta held the glove out and called back, "Got it!"

Peeta watched his brother carefully and expecting to catch the ball with ease, he was surprised and somewhat disappointed when the ball rolled by his feet where it eventually landed next to a tree. He opened his mouth and uttered a single, confused, "Huh?"

Rye chuckled and jogged over to his younger brother.

"Don't worry, little bro," he said and was already enjoying the lesson greatly. "It's hard catching a ball your first time. I was really bad when dad first showed me. I missed it ten times in a row."

"Really?" said Peeta with widened eyes. "Ten? That's a lot of times."

"Yeah!" said Rye. "I got so mad and then when I caught the ball it got better after that. Just had to keep catching it and catching it and it wasn't so bad after that. You'll get good at it too."

"Can we try again?"

Rye smiled, picked up the ball and answered, "Sure."

After missing the ball close to twenty times, Peeta was just seconds away from taking his glove off and returning inside if not for his brother's endless support.

"Don't give up, Peeta!" pleaded Rye, and told him encouragingly, "Remember how long it took me to catch the ball? I promise you're gonna get good at this and then when you do get good at catching, I can show you how to bat, and that's the funnest part!"

"I'm not very good though, Rye," said Peeta quietly while staring hesitantly at the ball. "I just can't catch it. I'll never be as good as you."

"But you will, little bro," Rye told him, giving him a clap on the shoulder. "There's nothing my little brother can't do! I'm gonna help you and you're gonna get great at baseball and then we can play a real game and then we'll both be great!"

Peeta stared at Rye, then down at his glove, and returning his focus back to Rye, he said with a small smile, "Okay."

"That's the spirit, little bro!" he said in his recognizable, cheering voice. "You and I will be baseball champs real soon, don't worry. Just gotta keep trying!"

After a few more tries, Peeta finally managed to catch the ball and when he did, Rye punched the air in victory and shouted, "Yay, Peeta!"

Peeta kept his eyes on the ball in his glove for a solid minute before glancing back over at Rye.

"I...I did it!" he said with shining eyes. He chuckled, smiled and repeated, "I did it!"

"Told you you'd do it," said Rye, who hadn't doubted his little brother for even a second. If there was anyone in the world that believed wholeheartedly in Peeta Mellark, it was Rye. "Practice, practice, practice! That's what everyone says so it must be true."

Peeta chuckled again and told Rye with excitement, "Can you show me how to bat now?"

"You bet!" said Rye with equal exhilaration. "And once you can bat, we can take turns catching and batting."

Peeta nodded and asked him, "So how should I stand?"

"Dad told me to bend my knees," Rye explained to him. Once Peeta had done this, his brother went on, "And he told me to keep my eye on the ball. Look at the ball and try not to swing too hard. Took me a long time to hit it but you can do it, Peeta!"

"Does this look right?" asked Peeta, holding the bat carefully with both hands while staring at Rye.

"Yeah!" said Rye, giving him a vigorous thumbs up. "Looks right to me. Now I'm gonna throw you the ball but can you tell me what you need to do again?"

"Not swing too hard," said Peeta, loosening his grip just slightly on the bat. "Oh! And keep my knees bent, too. And keep my eye on the ball!"

"Awesome!" said Rye with an impressed laugh. "Okay! Let's play ball!"

Just like before with the glove, it took Peeta more than a couple of tries to get the hang of using a bat. What he wanted was to strike the ball almost instantly but as Rye would tell him time and again, practice makes perfect. Through all the frustration and discouragement, Peeta eventually reached the point where he was no longer feeling annoyed but rather...even more determined. Hearing Rye cheering him on with such certainty reenergized him and helped strengthen his own self-confidence and soon all the discouraging feelings had left him.

It was after a number of tries and failures that Peeta at last succeeded in doing the one thing he'd wanted so badly to do – and that was to hit a baseball.

"Woah!" Rye called out and his eyes were now the size of marbles. "Y-you did it, Peeta!"

"I-I hit the ball!" he said under his breath, and then in a much louder and excited voice, shouted, "I hit it!"

"You're awesome, little bro!" his brother praised and rushed over to give Peeta one of his brotherly hugs. Throwing both his arms around Peeta, he chuckled, "See? Told you we're gonna be baseball champs!"

"Let's try again," said Peeta eagerly.

After running across the yard to retrieve the ball, Rye returned to his spot and with a huge smile, called out, "Ready?"

"Ready!" was Peeta's answer.

Other pictures showed them swinging on a tire swing their father had tied to the branch of a tree out in the yard, having races and playing tag and hide and seek. On Christmas Day, Rye was seen buried in a mountain of opened boxes, wrapping paper and an endless amount of tags. Peeta was on his knees searching for his hidden brother in the enormous mess and Rye was playfully staring out at him from between two of the largest boxes with an amused, joyful gleam in his eyes. On Halloween night, they were standing at the entrance door in their spooky, fearsome costumes. Peeta was dressed as a monster with large horns, a spiked tail, large teeth and eyes that were the size of baseballs and Rye was a werewolf complete with furry, clawed hands, feet and a body that was covered in thick, brown fur. By the time April rolled around and it was Easter morning, they were seated on the living room with two giant baskets in front of them. In them were chocolate rabbits, eggs, coloring books and a variety of other gifts. In the snapshot, both Peeta and his older brother's faces were smeared with chocolate and around them were piles and piles of wrappers. In one, they were sitting at the kitchen table with a basket of books, crayons, makers and paper. Peeta was showing Rye how to color but no matter how hard Rye tried, he was never able to color inside the lines like his little brother. He'd always be letting his marker slide farther out of place and where Peeta's illustrations came out with no additional markings outside the lines, Rye's were full of them. He might not have proven to be as skilled with crayons as Peeta was, but that didn't stop Rye from enjoying everything he and Peeta colored together.

Whether the two were swimming in a lake, flying a kite, playing in the mud, playing I Spy, determining who could make the funniest faces, riding their bikes, pretending to be heroic knights and ferocious dragons and building cardboard castles, each and every photo showed the same, identical thing. Peeta had now gone through more than half of the album and in each and every photo, there was a smile on his older brother's face. His bright, cheerful smile was something Peeta wanted to smile about himself, but the sadness building in his heart just wouldn't allow it. To think that Rye had changed into a person that barely ever smiled about anything made him see just how drastically different of a guy he'd become. He was nothing like the lively, happy and imaginative child in the photos of this album; that was a Rye that had been dead for years.

Memories were now flooding like rivers into his mind and in these memories, Peeta was shown yet another side of his brother. But there was no laughing, smiling or joking like all the times they'd shared where they'd had endless fun because the two were scared, frightened and shaken. The only thing that could help to put their minds at ease was the other's company. They were each other's rocks and could rely on the other through thick and thin and even in the most difficult times.

There was one time that Peeta recalled where he'd overheard his parents hollering in the room across from them and it was a sound that shook him horribly because he simply couldn't make sense of why they were shouting at all. The way he saw it, his parents loved each other and to hear them sound like this wasn't a thing he wanted to believe he was really hearing. It was absolutely real though, and all he could wonder was what had caused them to become so upset in the first place. After settling onto the couch and putting his head in between his knees, however, he felt the arms of his brother wrapping around him securely. It didn't surprise him that Rye had come to his side because there was hardly ever a time where the two weren't doing all they could for the other.

"W-why are they talking like that, Rye?" asked Peeta in fear, tears filling his eyes at the very thought of his parents ever leaving each other. "W-why?"

Rye kept his arms around his younger brother and said honestly, "I-I don't know, little bro. Maybe they're mad at each other. When people get mad, they yell and say things they don't really mean."

"But why?" Peeta questioned, feeling so lost and hopelessly confused. "Why are Mom and Dad talking like that? What got them fighting?"

Rye was silent for only a moment before suggesting, "Maybe Dad did something to get Mom mad and now she's not happy?"

"You always say that!" came the shrieking howl of their mother. "Time and time again that's all I hear. When am I gonna hear something I actually wanna hear? I'm so sick of this goddam nonsense."

"But Mom's screaming!" said Peeta in a quivering voice. "S-she's being really loud and what...what if they come in here?" The tears were now pouring out of his eyes even faster and it wouldn't be long till he broke out into a full, uncontrollable round of sobbing.

"It's okay, little bro," said Rye, doing his best to sound reassuring, though his own voice was starting to tremble. "W-we'll be okay. I'm not going anywhere. Staying right here with you. Gonna stay right here with you till it's over."

"Promise?" whispered Peeta, holding onto his brother tightly.

"Promise," said Rye, and the two remained like this for another twenty minutes while their howling mother went on screeching hysterically at their father.

A second memory that returned to him involved one of the two sitting once more on the living room couch but unlike before, it was now Rye who was trembling in obvious fear. Raging on outside was what he felt was the most terrifying storm he'd ever seen or heard and he wished more than anything that it would stop. The moment when he'd first heard the rumbling thunder make itself known, it had frozen him in place and even now he still couldn't will his body to move. But his little brother was right there sitting next to him and just as Rye had done for him many times before, Peeta was there to comfort and protect him. No matter how violent and fierce of a storm the two were faced with, it wouldn't stop Peeta from shielding his friend from all the chaos.

"I-it's not stopping, Peeta," whined Rye and his eyes were glued on the outside chaos. "M-maybe it's not gonna stop. M-maybe it'll go on f-f-forever!"

"Don't worry, Rye," Peeta told him, wrapping him in a hug. "It'll stop."

"H-how do you know?" asked Rye in apprehension. Just then, there came such a frighteningly loud clash that could have ripped the very ground apart and at once, Rye's entire body began shuddering. His hands, feet and every inch of him were quivering terribly, but Peeta was right there.

"It'll stop, Rye," Peeta assured him calmly. "Storms don't last that long."

"You really think so?" said Rye quietly, and slowly but surely felt his mind and body calming down. He couldn't imagine what he'd do without his younger brother, for it was his shoulder he could lean on in times of uneasiness. It was listening to his words and feeling his comforting presence that helped alleviate whatever stress was leaving him fretful.

Peeta nodded and said with a smile, "Mhm."

"Thanks, little bro," said Rye sincerely. "I...I'm really scared of them. All that noise and the lights in the sky, it's...it's really scary."

"I know," said Peeta softly, "But I'm gonna keep sitting here with you. You're gonna be okay."

"Promise?" said Rye, his eyes locked on his little brother's.

"Promise," said Peeta and within a matter of minutes, the ferocious storm had weakened and eventually died off completely.

It was this memory – the one of them sitting on the couch in a tight hug with the lightning and thunder clashing together outside – that he remembered something. Replaying it in his mind must have triggered that small part of his brain where he stored all his memories because one was now resurfacing.

It had been about a month and a half ago during the third week of September that a storm had developed and just like in the photo, he and Rye had been sitting in the living room. What was eerily similar was that just like when they'd been kids, Rye had proven to be just as frightened of the crashing sounds and brilliant streaks that raged on without end. He'd enveloped himself in a blanket as if in an attempt to block out the startling sights and sounds of the vicious storm. As he'd done when he'd been six years old, Peeta had been there for his older brother in a time when he'd been fearful and perturbed. When he'd pulled the blanket off him and saw the petrified look on Rye's face, he'd instantly wrapped both arms around him to let him know that he wasn't alone. The younger Rye had returned Peeta's hug and despite the fact that the older Rye hadn't, there was another important thing that he hadn't done – and that was to push his little brother away. Not once had he shoved, shouted or demand that Peeta leave the room, nor had he refused his brother's efforts to calm his nerves. What he'd done was sit there quietly while his body went on shaking but above all, he'd allowed his brother to offer him comfort and company.

Right then, Peeta felt so dazed that he wasn't even sure he could make sense of what that had meant. Was there a hidden truth in what had occurred that night of the storm, or was there no meaning at all? After viewing all these photos, he'd been shown a side of Rye that he'd believed for so long to be nonexistent. Dead. It certainly wasn't alive anymore but what he'd just seen proved clear as day that Rye Mellark had once been his friend, a friend he'd loved and admired to pieces.

There was all but one final photo in the album that he had to observe. It was a single image that would bring forth all the emotions Peeta was working so hard not to let grab hold of him. It would be this one picture that would leave him longing and aching more than ever to bring back the Rye he'd loved so much as a child – the Rye Mellark he'd desperately been trying to find for all these years.

He and Rye were standing outside in the yard and no surprise, both were smiling and looked just as cheery as they did in the many other photos. They had their arms around each other's shoulders and were staring straight into the camera while their father snapped the picture. There was nothing particularly different about this photo, in that he and Rye weren't doing anything other than standing there smiling.

It was the words that had been written under the photo that sucked Peeta into an instant trance. Just as the words on the cover of the album had been scribbled with various colored Crayola crayons, so were these. And just like on the album's cover, all that was under this picture were a few simple words that held so much meaning and brought out so many emotions in Peeta's heart. Ever since he'd first opened up the album and looked inside, he'd experienced such longing but he was now getting struck with a longing that felt all too painful. To say it left him lonely and missing his old friend more than ever was all but an understatement because now dripping down his cheeks were tears.

The words were: MY BEST FRIEND – PEETA MELLARK

That wasn't everything though. Beneath these three words was a small piece of paper that had clearly been ripped out of a notebook to be taped into the back of the album. The six-year-old who'd written these words had asked his father to help him look it over since he knew he wasn't the best when it came to spelling.

Without really knowing what he was doing, Peeta found himself reading the words over and over as if there was nothing more he could do at this point. The longer he went on re-reading the words, the more he found himself wanting to close up the album and throw it across the room out of total angst. Instead, he remained standing while letting his eyes fill with tears that then trickled down his face and onto the kitchen counter.

The words on the paper read: You're my best friend in the whole wide world, Peeta! You're the coolest, greatest, bestest guy I know and I'm so happy you're my brother! You're funny and lots of fun to play games with. You're always there for me and I'm gonna be there for you always too, little bro! You make everyday lots of fun and you're the best buddy a brother could ever have. I don't know what I'd do without you around. Thanks for being my best friend and teaching me so much! You showed me how to color, finger paint and even how to draw pictures. I know I'm not very good at artsy stuff like you are but thanks for coloring with me all those times even though I kept coloring outside the lines. You and I are gonna be best friends forever, little bro! You'll always be my favourite guy in the whole wide world and I love you to the moon and back and always will! Your brother and best friend – Rye Mellark.

"We were best friends," Peeta snivelled, once more feeling the tears sliding down his cheeks. He felt like he could have stood there for hours just crying at the thought that he and Rye had once been inseparable friends, but were now shattered and ruined like the pieces of a broken vase.

A small choking sound escaped him as he told himself shakily, "I-I was his best friend a-and he was mine. I meant the world to him, and he meant the world to me. He...he loved me." In a much shakier voice, he said in a pained whisper, "He said we'd be best friends forever. Said he loved me and…and he's gone."

After staring at the photo and the words under it for an eternity, Peeta whispered in anguish, "What happened to you, Rye? Where did you go?" All that could be done now was to close the album but even after he'd done that, the sorrow was still sitting just as heavily in his aching heart. "You and I were the best of friends and did everything together and laughed and played together, were there for each other and now," and his voice trailed off for only a moment before he said quietly, "That's all gone."

Peeta dropped his head, sighed heavily and sniffed tiredly, "I'd give anything to have you back, Rye. I'd give the world to be friends again. I don't know what happened to us but I'm not giving up. I swear I'm not. I'm gonna help you and maybe we...really can be friends again. _I know I miss what you and I once had and maybe I don't know what you think of it all...but I'm gonna find out. There's gotta be something that'll make you see how close you and I once were. There's gotta be a way I can bring you back._

The only problem was figuring out a way to make that happen. He couldn't approach Rye directly because all that would result in would be endless hollering from his brother. He didn't have to give it a second thought to know that he'd only set his brother off if he attempted to sit down and talk with him about their forgotten childhood.

This in itself felt like a major dilemma because if he couldn't go and speak with his brother, then how would he know how Rye really felt about everything? How would he be able to do anything if he couldn't hear from Rye himself what his own thoughts were about them once being friends? Peeta was starting to think after a few seconds of running through possibilities that maybe there wasn't a thing that could be done. Perhaps heading back to his room and going through his homework would be the best thing to do right then.

And then it came to him.

Why he hadn't thought of it sooner he wasn't sure of but it had been staring him in the face for the past twenty minutes. Everything he needed was in this album that Rye himself had constructed all those years ago at the age of six. He now knew for certain that it was the single, best and only tool he could use to get into his brother's head. This album that was filled with a hundred photos and memories would be the perfect instrument for what he now hoped to achieve in doing – salvaging he and his older brother's abandoned friendship.

What Peeta had in mind was fairly simple. It was straightforward and wouldn't be too hard in pulling off, but there was every chance he'd fail and it would all be over. One false slip and there'd be no hopes of learning how Rye felt deep down past all the anger and maliciousness he exhibited day after day. If he wanted to have a glimpse into his older brother's heart, then his plan had to succeed. If not, then he'd be right back at square one and any opportunity to try and piece back together their friendship would be thrown out the window.

What he first needed to do...was set a _trap_ for Rye Mellark.

Like setting a trap for a mouse, he had to ensure that everything was in place and more importantly...that he remained hidden. That was the most crucial factor in this plan because if he was spotted, then it would be nothing but game over. If he wanted his plan to work, then he absolutely had to make sure he stayed out of his brother's sight. If he could this, then he might just have a chance at trapping his brother and getting a glimpse into his true emotions.

The album itself had to be moved, so he took it and placed it on the table in the center of the kitchen. It was closed and now waiting to be looked at once more with wonder and interest, but not by Peeta – by Rye. Peeta was fully aware of the emotions that had clouded his thinking while looking through the photos – sadness, longing, curiosity and overwhelmed – but it was now time to see how his brother would react to these photos. Would his reaction be similar to his little brother's? Would he experience that same longing to step back to the time when he and Peeta had been the closest of friends? Or would it be just the opposite? Would his temper worsen just at the sight of himself laughing with a guy he now thought of as dirt? Would he punch the wall? Go after Peeta and shove grief onto his shoulders for the millionth time simply because he was so hopelessly annoyed?

There was only one way to find out.

The only place where Peeta could possibly hide with little chance of getting spotted was in the small room just off the kitchen. It was where his parents kept a small hoard of their ingredients, supplies and materials – bags of flour, old cookbooks and recipes, extra utensils, cake decorating tools – and it was really the only place he could think of to hide. More important, he'd have a perfect view of Rye and the photo album and with the door closed, why should his brother suspect anyone was hiding inside? Most times he was too concerned with his own needs to even put much thought into something so trivial so Peeta wasn't worried the slightest about getting caught.

What he was more anxious about was if this whole setup was truly a waste and he was wasting his own time. Did Rye already know about the album? Had he looked through it enough times for it not to be a thing he wasn't unfamiliar with? There was a good chance he most likely had already flipped through this album but there was still every chance that he hadn't. This album of memories might have been tucked away for years in their living room table and just maybe Rye hadn't once stumbled upon it. Perhaps he'd never given any curiosity as to what was hiding in the bottom drawer to this table, and so he'd gone years without even knowing it was still somewhere in the house.

It wasn't long before Peeta had entered the dark room and was now quietly closing the door behind him. Before doing this, he'd put the muffin back up in the cabinet and the milk back in the fridge, figuring he'd probably end up eating it later while doing his homework, since he almost always got hungry when it came to math. He immediately made sure to stand off to the side as much as possible so as not to make himself visible through the glass, vertical windows on either side of the door. So long as he kept to the side and made not a sound, then there'd be no reason for Rye to think he wasn't still sitting in his room working through equations and numbers.

The biggest question though was...would Rye show up?

If he wasn't hungry or in the mood for a snack, then why would he leave the comfort of his bed to walk all the way over to the kitchen? Or say if he did enter the kitchen with a growling stomach, what if he grabbed what he wanted and hurried back to his room without even noticing the album? Or – and Peeta was feeling on edge about the probability of this happening – he'd glance at the album, but wouldn't care to look inside and would just hurry back over to his room.

 _He will_ , thought Peeta, keeping his eyes glued on the album. _He goes to the fridge almost every hour for a snack so he should be here any minute. If not, I'll wait. I just want him to show up, see that album because maybe this'll be it. Maybe this'll finally be what it takes for us to be friends again. Getting a peak into our past might be all he needs. I just hope he shows up soon or..._

That was when he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps treading down the hall. He now knew that one of his questions had been answered. He'd been wondering if Rye would even show up at all but hearing the familiar sound of footsteps speeding down the hall, he knew where his brother would be heading – the kitchen.

Peeta felt his heart start pounding nervously from beneath his chest. This was it. If he succeeded in trapping Rye, then he might just be able to uncover some hidden, secret emotions. That, or he'd discover that Rye cared nothing for this album and its childhood photos. Either way, he'd soon find out because his older brother was now entering the kitchen. Feeling his anxiety rising, he took the quietest of a breath and kept his eyes on Rye and the waiting album. This plan could very well end up failing miserably but there was no stopping or turning back now.

It was now time to see what his brother would do in these next few minutes.

Peeta watched his brother intently as he strolled over to the fridge with a cranky, bothered look on his face. This confirmed he was indeed hungry because if there was anyone around that went on grumbling under his breath, it was Rye. No doubt he'd been sitting lazily up on his bed, only to then hear and feel his stomach growling and that was when he'd decided to pay a much-needed visit to the fridge. Having known Rye all his life, Peeta was confident that what he'd take out of the fridge would be his usual pan of brownies. Nine out of ten times, this was usually what he did so it didn't surprise Peeta even a little when he saw his brother lifting the pan out and onto the counter.

He then wasted no time in grabbing a plate and knife which he then set down next to the pan. Peeta's eyes never left Rye once but what he wanted to do was shout out, "Look behind you!" The album was sitting just a few feet behind him on the center table but Rye's attention wasn't on anything else but the scrumptious brownies in front of him. What Peeta feared was that he had noticed the album out of the corner of his eyes, but he was just choosing to ignore it completely. Whether he had noticed it or was too occupied with stuffing himself with chocolate, there was still the chance he'd walk into the trap. While Peeta watched him cutting the brownies into oversized pieces, he could only cross his fingers and hope the trap would prove successful.

Four large brownies were soon sitting on Rye's plate and his eyes couldn't have been any larger. The pan was now back in the fridge, the knife was in the sink and all he wanted right then was to rush back to his room and devour his treats. He was seconds away from doing so too...if he hadn't suddenly caught sight of something to his left. It was a large, heavy-looking album that was on the kitchen table just next to him and he hadn't even noticed it till now.

Where Rye's eyes were now focused only on the album beside him, Peeta's were focused only on his brother. Now that Rye's attention had shifted from the plate of brownies to the album, he was both anxious and interested to see what he would ultimately do. Would he stop to look in the album? Or would he beeline back over to his room while stuffing his face with the chocolately treat that were his all-time favourite?

It took everything in Peeta to remain standing perfectly still while breathing softly and quietly. If there was any moment where he wanted to explode, it was then. He could feel a shudder running through his body that combined both tension and growing curiosity. There'd rarely been a time where he'd been able to glimpse deeper into his brother's mind and all the times he had watched him in silence, all he'd achieved was getting yelled at or ignored. But this was different. He was now out of Rye's sight entirely and so long as he kept quiet, then he'd be able to observe any emotions his brother displayed towards the album. He was close enough that it would be virtually impossible to miss the emotions showing on his face.

But would Rye even care to look in the album? Would he actually put time aside to glance inside at all the photos that held so many precious memories of himself and his little brother? As Peeta stood there gazing outward, he hadn't any idea what this guy would end up doing. Though he was predictable more times than not, still there were times where he'd taken Peeta by surprise and all he could wonder was if he was about to surprise him yet again.

It was a few seconds till Rye finally did something.

Without saying a word and appearing less angry than when he'd first entered the kitchen, he picked up the plate of brownies...and put them in the fridge. Peeta had to blink once, then twice to confirm that he'd really seen right. An image as simple as Rye putting food away – brownies nonetheless – just wasn't a thing he'd expected to see. But his eyes hadn't fooled him or played any trick which meant as shocking as it was, this was really happening. Rye was refocusing his attention from the brownies to something else but the question was...on what?

The answer came instantly.

After closing the fridge and feeling no longer interested in eating or heading back to his room...his focus was now on the album. He was standing directly in front of it with his head down slightly while staring intently at the words on the front cover. His initial reaction wasn't to grab the book, hurl it across the room and laugh in amusement, nor was it to drop it in the trash. All he was doing was staring down at it with an expression that Peeta couldn't yet make sense of. No doubt the wheels were turning in his head but where would it go beyond that? There was no sign of annoyance or rage showing on his face so that must have meant something. What Peeta was watching and waiting so carefully for was some sign, hint or indication that his older brother wasn't an impassive, emotionless robot. He needed to be shown proof that there was more to Rye Mellark than he'd believed there to be for all these years. What he hoped to see was that like him, Rye – beneath all the layers of denial, hatred, harassment and detest – in truth...longed for their friendship to return.

It was inspecting his brother's facial expressions that he noticed a gradual change in Rye's eyes. Normally, they were dark and filled with a fierce, fiery rage but the harder he looked, the more it occurred to him that no flames were present in his eyes. All Peeta could make out from the look in his eyes was one of undeniable interest. Not only that, but there was a sort of calmness that was becoming more noticeable and easy to spot the longer he went on staring at Rye. And while Peeta wanted to feel hopeful in his attempt to reach through and reconnect with his lost friend, there were no guarantees yet. He had to remember that his brother's moods would continuously be changing at the drop of a hat which meant the familiar anger might resurface any second. Of course, he was holding out hope that maybe things would be different this one time but he couldn't ignore what was likely to happen.

What Rye did next though wasn't what Peeta had anticipated at all and only got his mind spinning in even more directions. His older brother wasn't leaving to back to his room to chill, listen to music and stuff his face with brownies. He was remaining exactly where he was and was now doing the one thing Peeta had been nervously waiting to see the instant he saw Rye first appear in the kitchen.

After taking a careful look around the room to ensure that he was completely alone and that Peeta wasn't anywhere in sight...he _opened_ the album.


	31. Chapter 31

**CHAPTER 31**

 **NOVEMBER**

To Peeta, it felt like time was slowly but surely slowing down. He was starting to forget where he was and what he'd planned on getting done that night which was his homework. His eyes were so glued on Rye's face because what he was seeing wasn't anything what he'd been expecting. The look of calmness on his face still hadn't left and it was now briskly getting replaced by unmistakable...curiosity. It wasn't tricky to read the expression on one's face and as Peeta watched and waited, he saw the curiosity written all over his older brother's face. His eyes were locked on the many photos in front of him, not caring to look anywhere else but at these pictures. Right then, it was like all Rye could see were these photos of himself and Peeta when they'd been six years old and even if he'd tried to...he just couldn't look away.

Page after page Rye flipped through the album and by the time he'd looked over more than forty, the enquiring look in his eyes was no longer as palpable. Peeta had to search his face harder but he didn't have to look long to know what he was reading on Rye's face. Just as he'd seen with the curious expression, it wasn't a thing that was hard to miss because it spoke for itself in a way, and Peeta was now staring at it straight in the face.

Showing on his brother's face was an evident and noticeable...longing.

It was like a person had put up a mirror and Peeta was now examining the same, familiar longing that had appeared on his own face when he himself had been staring at the photos. It was so eerily similar to the look his face had taken on that he felt like he was watching it unfold for a second time, only now through Rye's eyes. And just as he had stood frozen in place while hardly blinking, Rye was doing just the same. It was astounding to see such a look in his eyes but it provided Peeta with an answer to the single, overriding question he'd been pondering about. He hadn't been sure if the photos in the album would grab Rye's attention or speak to him but watching him now, indeed they were. They were transporting Rye back to a time when he'd been a happier and friendlier person and while each photo held its own special story, they all reminded him of the same thing. Through each of these photos, he was reminded of the one person who had been his favourite guy in the world, and his dearest friend. It was only through these photos that he was able to return to the fun, amusing and enjoyable past that belonged only to himself and his little brother.

After about twenty minutes, he'd reached the end of the album. There was all but one final page that had yet to be seen, and it would be this page that would trigger the response that would leave his younger brother speechless.

The final photo and the words beneath it would let Rye revisit their childhood yet again but this time, he'd be struck with a sudden realization that would feel like bricks in his heart. Everything Peeta had seen up till this point definitely hadn't been what he'd expected to see, but it was the final reaction from Rye that would truly strike home for Peeta Mellark. It was a response that left him questioning all he'd ever seen and heard from his brother over the years. Above all, it made him wonder if all of what Rye had said to him over the years had been what he'd said it was – the truth?

That was because tears were now forming in Rye's eyes.

From where Peeta was standing, it would have been just about impossible not to notice this because of how much his brother's eyes were now watering. He still hadn't budged, said a word, or refocused his gaze to somewhere else in the room because the photo and words in front of him wouldn't allow him. For what felt like such a painfully long time, he was trapped in the only time in his life when he'd been truly alive. The words themselves seemed to be springing to life right before his eyes and soon, he was hearing them repeatedly in his head. It was staring at the photo of him and Peeta smiling and reading the words he'd written to his little brother that caused his emotions to get the best of him.

By now, he knew there was no controlling or holding back his emotions. So after staring at his smiling brother for a minute longer, he lowered his head, closed his eyes...and let a single tear slide down his cheek. For the first time in forever, he was finally admitting that he'd been fighting against his own emotions for too long. Day after day he'd struggled and fought against his own furious self but it was standing there at that exact moment that he couldn't do it anymore. Whether it had all been building up to this one specific moment, Rye wasn't sure of. All he knew was what he was now feeling as he went on staring at this one photo out of so many others that had been forgotten.

He didn't want to fight against himself any longer. All he wanted was for the exhausting, maddening to leave him. He wanted to let his emotions take over, rather than constantly be doing all he could to hide them inside and lock them away from the world. It left him with too many headaches and left him feeling too stressed, tired and drained of all energy that he might have had if he hadn't been fighting this battle for so long.

That was when he let the one single tear that had formed in his eye transform into many. Still with his head dropped and his eyes closed, he let tear after tear slide down his cheeks and not once did he punch the table in anger of what he was doing. His mind could only stay focused on all the emotions that were now pouring out of him. Any bit of anger and spite he would have normally felt were now getting replaced by a wider range of emotions that he had no control over. He was powerless against them and all he was thankful for as he stood there shedding tears and letting them trickle down his face was that no one could see what he was doing. Most of all, he was especially grateful that Peeta hadn't decided to leave his room and stroll into the kitchen because that would have been disastrous. There was no way he'd be able to explain why he was looking in this album of when they were kids and more so, why tears were streaming down his face. How would he have ever been able to talk his way around that? The fact that he was tearing up and clearly holding back from doing much more would have been all the proof Peeta needed. There was no question he would have realized at once what was racing through Rye's head, and it was relieving to know that he wasn't anywhere in the room to see what he was now doing...which was crying.

Little did Rye know that Peeta wasn't actually busy in his room working away at a number of math questions. He was hiding in the small storage room that ran just off the kitchen and he'd been oblivious to the fact that his brother had been secretly watching him since he'd first stumbled upon the album. He'd been under the impression that he'd been the only one present while he'd been re-exploring his childhood...but he'd been mistaken.

Peeta knew he couldn't remain hiding for even a moment longer. If he did, then Rye would eventually leave and any chance he'd have of approaching his brother when his emotions were out in the open would be gone. The sole purpose of doing what he'd done was to catch his brother at a time where he'd be unable to argue, refuse or deny what was so plainly written on his face...and now was that time. There'd be no getting around the simple fact that his eyes were in tears and that he still hadn't removed his eyes from the various photos.

As Peeta had hoped when the plan had first come to him...his trap had proven successful.

What he now had to undertake would be the most challenging task of all and one of the most difficult he'd ever attempted – helping Rye open up his heart to him.

There was no backing down or giving it any second thoughts now. He'd seen too much from Rye's reaction to be able to walk off and not address it because he finally had the proof he needed. The tears in his brother's eyes and the expression on his face told him so much that it would have been foolish not to do something about it. Of course he had to at least try and get through to Rye but there was no telling how things would go once he knew the guy he hated most had been secretly watching him.

With an inaudible sigh, he set his emotions aside for the moment and reached for the doorknob. He felt the faintest shake and knew his nerves would be sent through the roof in just a few short seconds. As soon as he came face to face with Rye, there would be no controlling the wave of emotions that would be hanging over him. All he could do was try and keep calm, stay focused and hope that somehow, what he would say to Rye would help him break out of all the hatred he felt towards him.

While turning the handle, his thoughts immediately went to Rye. Where would his head be when he knew he hadn't been alone like he'd went on believing? Would he give him a brutal pounding? Would he enter such a state of shock that he'd find himself speechless? Or would he run back to his room, lock the door and pretend nothing at all had happened and that it was really just a night just like any other.

The answer to that question came instantaneously.

The door was now halfway open and filling the air was a perceptible screeching. If his brother had been in one of the other rooms, the sound never would have reached him. He was here in the kitchen though, and though he'd been locked in a solid trance, he still heard the unmistakable sound of a door being opened. For a fleeting moment, he tried telling himself his ears were hearing things and that nobody else was here in this room except himself. It made no sense that he'd start hearing this so out of the blue but as much as he wanted to convince himself he was alone...he wasn't.

The screeching sound grew louder as the door continued opening but still Rye wouldn't lift his head. He refused to acknowledge and admit that he'd been wrong in thinking no one had seen him flipping through this album that had been left untouched for years. The idea that eyes were watching over him was about as uncomfortable as if he'd been caught standing in front of a crowd in only his underwear. The sphere of privacy he'd remained standing in since he'd first entered the kitchen had been rudely invaded and all he wanted was to scream. He wanted to keep staring at the album and not have to accept what was in front of him but he had to and having no other choice...he shifted his gaze to the now open doorway.

Standing there was the last person in the world he wanted to have to see right then – Peeta. The guy had left the room that had served as his hiding place for the past few minutes but he was now out in the open. His eyes darted from the album to Peeta, and then from Peeta to the album and everything came rushing at him in one horrid, painful moment. The realization was like a punch to the head and he couldn't have been hit with it at a worse moment because he was now completely and hopelessly vulnerable.

Opening his mouth, he blinked in disbelief and uttered numbly, "N-n...no." Some lump in his throat was pushing its way aggressively up his throat, but he was hardly aware of this. It was nothing compared to the overwhelming shock now creeping inside of him. It burned and felt like an uncomfortable tingle that was only going to worsen the longer he had to go on accepting what was unavoidable reality.

"Rye, just listen—" Peeta began calmly but his brother was too worked up and bothered to even let him keep talking.

"No," said Rye in growing denial. "Just...no way."

There was no denying it - the trap had been a complete and total success.

Rye gave one nervous glance to the album, pushed it away from him and then clumsily began positioning himself into the kitchen chair. His body was shaking so badly that he almost slipped on the floor itself, but he was somehow able to keep from stumbling. Once seated, he went back to dropping his head and pretending he was looking at his hands on the table rather than his spy of a brother.

He could have been staring at the floor and still it wouldn't have mattered. Peeta was all too quick to approach his brother and the feeling of him standing over his shoulder made him think maggots were crawling on his skin. His face might have been focused on the table but he knew his brother's eyes were fixed squarely on him. Judging by the stunned look on his face when he'd appeared from behind that door, he knew the guy wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.

"I saw you, Rye," Peeta explained, keeping his voice as calm as he could. It wasn't exactly easy considering he'd just been presented with an unforeseen glimpse at a Rye he'd always wondered about, but raising his voice would have solved a grand total of nothing. "I saw you looking through that album and—"

"Course you did!" spat Rye. He was struggling to keep his head from erupting. "You set me up! You put that stupid book there so I'd see it and go looking in it! I should have known you'd do something like this! It's just the kind of thing you'd do too! You're always watching me like some spy, watching every little thing I do! You have no right to go spying on me like that! What I do is none of your business and you had no right to go do that!"

"I did it for a reason," Peeta affirmed. He reached out, took the album and slid it back in front of Rye. "You were looking through this."

"So what if I was?" growled Rye. He shot Peeta a scowl that said he wanted so badly to punch him into next week. "I can do whatever the hell I want."

Peeta paused and then said with noticeable emotion, "I saw the look on your face, Rye. I didn't think you'd even look in the album but then you did and I saw it all over your face. You got emotional just like me and you might think I'm wrong about this, but I'm pretty sure I'm right. Every picture in this book you looked at and then when you got to the end, you...you had tears in your eyes. I saw them."

"No I didn't," snapped Rye, cutting him off and wishing his nagging, pestering voice would leave him.

"Yes, you did," answered Peeta sternly. "I saw it clear as day."

"Then you need goddam glasses because there sure as hell weren't!"

"Rye," said Peeta firmly. He kept his eyes glued to his brother. "I saw tears in your eyes. You can argue all you want and say there weren't but I saw them. Your eyes got watery and then you came close to crying and—"

"Liar!" hissed Rye, whose nostrils were flaring. His eyes were darting back and forth between Peeta and the album and he swore the whole room was spinning in circles. "Why don't you wake up and face reality? You got no proof at all that I was cryin' like some stupid baby! How old do you think I am? Four?"

"I saw you!" Peeta exclaimed, the tiniest bit of frustration now creeping into his voice. "How's that not enough proof? I was standing behind that door looking in and I watched you! From the moment you came in this room, I saw it all! How can you say that's not proof?"

Rye chuckled lightly and snickered under his breath. "Pathetic," he muttered.

"It's not," said Peeta just as firmly. "And you know it's not. There's no way you really believe you weren't in tears and that I didn't see it. Maybe it hurts that you know I saw it but I'm not trying to make you feel bad here, Rye! I'm trying to get some answers and...and I just want to help you. I want things to get better. I want this to end so we can put it behind us and—"

"Just stop!" whined Rye, shaking his head in annoyance and glaring up at his brother. "Stop trying to think you saw me blubbing like some idiot because I wasn't! And that proof you say you have is all bullshit anyway. You always think you see and hear stupid things but none of its real! You thought you saw me in tears but news flash bastard...you're wrong."

After a long, uncomfortable pause, Peeta asked point-blank, "Then answer this for me: why are there tears in your eyes right now?"

Rye shot him an infuriated look, clenched his teeth and snarled viciously, "There aren't!"

"Yes, there are," said Peeta, holding his brother's steely gaze. "Don't tell me you can't feel them."

"Idiot," growled Rye irritably.

He then felt so powerless and unable to turn this mess around that all he could do was push back his chair and hurry over to the kitchen counter. There, he grabbed onto the surface edge with both hands and gave it a hard squeeze as if channelling all his explosive outrage and stress into it. He gave a deep breath, swallowed and closed his eyes and pictured a place where Peeta Mellark didn't exist.

"Why do you hide from everything Rye?" questioned Peeta softly. "I just don't get why you run from what's right in front of you. You know you were close to crying back there and you still look like you're about to cry right now but you're still in denial."

"Go to hell!" barked Rye cynically.

"I don't understand," said Peeta, watching him closely and wishing he'd stop turning his back on him. "You say one thing but you know it's not the truth. All I know is there are tears in your eyes right now and I bet that album had something to do with it."

"It's a shitty book filled with even shittier pictures," he snapped in response. "Just a crap-filled book filled with crap that I don't give a dam about. What do you think of that?"

"I think you're lying," said Peeta. He then went on to correct himself by adding with detectable certainty, "No...I know you're lying."

"And how's that?" his brother shouted. "Let's hear it!"

"It's all over your face, Rye!" Peeta told him, giving yet another pensive glance at the album next to him. "No way you would have gotten tears in your eyes if something wasn't upsetting you or if you weren't getting emotional over something...and you definitely were. Those pictures meant something to you because why else would you have ended up with red eyes and tears on your face? Those pictures got you remembering back to when we were kids. It brought you back to a time when you were actually happy."

"I'm happy now!"

"How can you say that?" Peeta exclaimed, incredulous. "You're not even close to being happy! I see you day after day and you only ever smile when you're calling me names or pushing me around. But any other time I see you around the house you never have a smile on your face. You just have this lost look on your face and there's no way you're getting me to believe you're really happy. If you truly think you're as happy as you were when you were a kid, then you're kidding yourself. It's all just one big lie."

Rye gave him a sneer, went on glaring at him but before he could say anything, he was cut off once more by his brother.

"I know you're not happy Rye," Peeta continued. "Or you're bothered about something because Dad's offered to take you to the doctor and he says you never let him—"

"I don't need to see no friggen' doctor!" Rye punctuated. "Or psychologist or counsellor or anyone else because nothing's wrong with me! No way anyone's making me go see some person who's just gonna talk crap and tell me I'm messed up when I'm not! I don't need to see anyone!"

"Rye, you shouldn't keep whatever's on your mind boggled up—"

"There's nothing on my mind! You just keep bugging the shit out of me trying to convince me there is when there isn't! The only thing on my mind is you, and what a pain in the ass you are!"

"But you always say that," argued Peeta. "You probably should go see someone because maybe they could help you. It's obvious you don't want me helping you so maybe getting someone to do that would be good for you. Rye, there's no way you can say you don't need to see someone or at least get some help. You're always calling me names, pushing me around, you skip class whenever you want, you don't care to get decent grades and you're emotions are all over the place. You always claim it's just who you are and that nothing's wrong but that can't be the truth. At one time you weren't like this but then you suddenly changed and no one knows why. There's something you're not telling us. Whatever the truth is you just don't want people to know. You gotta be locking that up inside. This can't be you...the real you."

"Well, guess what?" sneered Rye, giving him the finger. "It is. So better get used to me because I ain't seeing no doctor and you or Dad or Mom or anyone else ain't gonna make me. No one's gonna make me say or do anything I don't want to. I'm happy with my life just the way it is. You just can't accept that your little childhood friend's grown up and moved on to other things."

"I'm sure the doctor wouldn't agree with you," contradicted Peeta. "I'm sure he'd see just as much as I do that you always try to—"

"It's none of your business what I choose to do! It's my life! Mine! Not yours! Period. What I do here and at school is my business! And it's sure as hell none of your business what I think of that ridiculous book."

"It is my business, Rye," his brother replied. "That book belongs just as much to me as it does to you. I care about what's in those pages and based on your reaction, it means just as much to you—"

"That book means nothing to me!" he argued venomously. "My math book means more to me than that pile of trash!"

"If it meant nothing to you, then you wouldn't have cared to look in it! You would have just shoved it away or thrown it across the room. But you didn't. You were all set to go back to your room with those brownies but then you saw the album and didn't care to head back to your room. That album made you curious and you wanted to look inside."

"I wanted to see those stupid pictures of you," Rye retorted. "Wanted to see how you're just as stupid now as you were ten years ago! I didn't look in it because I was curious Peeta...I looked because I wanted to laugh at how much of an idiot you were."

"Rye," said Peeta, giving a light sigh. "You say that's what you wanted to do but that's not what you did. I didn't see you laughing once. I told you, I was watching and I would have seen and heard you laughing. What you're telling me right now isn't matching what I saw. It makes no sense. They're two completely different things and you know that."

"I already told you...that stupid book means nothin' to me!" hollered Rye, who felt like his entire body was on blazing fire.

"Then why are there tears in your eyes?" repeated Peeta, not backing down for even a second.

"I told you there aren't!"

"Yes there are!" his brother shot back and he too was fighting to keep his emotions from spilling out. He knew that both he and Rye were doing a terrible job as both were on the verge of shouting.

"What the hell's your problem?" Rye demanded. He then whipped his head around and glared at Peeta while waiting for an answer. A newborn fire had sparked in his eyes and Peeta was now so baffled that it was near impossible to read any expression on his consistently-altering face. One moment he was floundering in tears and the next he was like an incensed bull that was out of control. "Maybe that loser book means something to you but it sure as hell doesn't mean anything to me. And why would it? Why should a book filled with pictures of a guy I hate mean even a thing to me? It's trash and you know dam well it's trash! You and that book are both worthless trash so give it a rest!"

Peeta was all set to fire back another argument, but found himself going silent. He wasn't sure exactly why he was but the album next to him had gotten him thinking. The words coming out of his brother's mouth were either lies or an unfortunate truth but spitting back and forth at each other wasn't going to determine anything. What could give him some answers though was the large album sitting on the table next to him – the album that contained so many lost and forgotten memories.

"Fine," said Peeta. He then picked up the album, walked over to Rye and held it out in front of him. The guy gave it a quick, disgusted look as if it were infested but didn't bother to take it from Peeta. The two shared eye contact only briefly before his younger brother asked him, "If that's really how you feel...then get rid of the album."

"What?" rejoined Rye with a broadening snicker.

"Get rid of it," Peeta instructed, and the grave look reflected in his eyes froze Rye in his place. He'd never recalled ever seeing his brother look and sound so grave and it took him by surprise. He was acting nothing but serious and the unwavering gaze in his eyes told him he wasn't there to play games, fool around or take any nonsense from him. He was dead serious about what he was requesting of him.

"Get rid of it?" said Rye, laughing yet again.

"Exactly," said Peeta. "Get rid of it, burn it, throw it in the trash, I don't care. Just throw it away if it's nothing but crap to you. If the book really means that little to you then it won't matter what happens to it. Like you just said, it's a crap-filled book filled with crap pictures. Holds no importance to you, so why keep it in the house? If you hate it that much, then it shouldn't even be in the house at all."

Rye might not have been aware of what Peeta was doing, but his younger brother knew just what he was doing. By using the album, he would be able to see past Rye's constant lies and pull out the truth that he was working so hard to disguise. It wouldn't be long now till he got all the answers he needed because whatever Rye decided to say or do next would be crucial. He had some idea of how the guy would respond to what he'd asked of him but what he said instead left him surprised.

"Don't want to," said Rye begrudgingly.

"Why not?" challenged Peeta. Holding the book closer to his brother, the guy scoffed in repugnance, grabbed the album and hurled it back onto the table.

"Maybe I don't feel like it," he contended with an indifferent shrug.

"No," said Peeta and told him explicitly, "You just don't want to get rid of it because those pictures meant something to you. You don't want to put them in the trash because then they'll be gone and you'll never get them back again. These pictures are all you have to remind you of the person you once were. They're all that's left."

"Will you shut the hell up?" howled Rye, now getting pushed closer and nearer to the edge of insanity. "Just let it go and take that piece of crap somewhere else because right now you're really pissing me off."

"Why not get rid of it though?"

"Who cares where the hell it goes! Trash, fire, who gives a dam? Doesn't matter anyway."

"I think you do," said Peeta plainly.

"Did you not hear what I just said?" jeered Rye with a snort. "I said I don't care!"

"If you don't care, then get rid of it!" said Peeta sharply, raising his voice and growing increasingly impatient. Rye was dodging around all of Peeta's comments but not once would he ever come right out and give a straight, simple answer that was the solid truth. "You say you don't care but yet you won't get rid of it. Why? Because you don't want to lose those pictures. After looking through them all it struck something in you and you don't want to lose the only link you have to your past...our past!"

"I don't give a shit about our past," countered Rye in hatred. "It's a past that should never have existed but guess I can't do much about that now. Who cares? Point is I could care less what happens to that lameass book. Stupid little pictures like those are just a joke."

"If you really didn't care," said Peeta, pointing to the album. "Then you'd throw that in the fire and not even think twice about it. You'd chuck it in the woods or tear up the pages but you keep saying you don't care what happens to it when really...you do care. People never get rid of things that mean something to them but they'll always get rid of things that mean nothing at all. It doesn't make sense how you say that book has no meaning for you but you still won't tear up those pictures. You won't even touch them, let alone burn them and it—"

"Then get rid of it yourself!" his brother hissed in indifference. "If you want it gone that bad, then go do it yourself!"

"I don't want to get rid of it," Peeta firmly emphasized. "But this isn't about me. I care about those pictures and getting rid of that book is the last thing I'd want to do. I want to hold on to those memories because it's all I have to show me that you and I were once friends. Looking back and remembering what you were really like as a kid, holding on to that's all I have left. If that album goes then I'll have nothing left to remind me that you weren't always like this. Those pictures are my proof that you were once different."

Rye didn't argue back this time but rather, went on standing there with his eyes trained on the ground.

"You're in there somewhere, Rye," said Peeta in a choking voice. Getting through to his older brother was proving to be a far more gruelling task than he'd imagined and not only that, but it was messing with his own emotions. "I know you've said to me so many times that this is who you are but it's not. It can't be. That book just proved me wrong. There is more to you and whether you want to accept it or not, you and I were once best friends. Maybe you tried forgetting that, but you can't tell me you really went and forgot…everything?"

"Oh, what, you gonna cry now?" taunted Rye, for a single tear was now sliding down his little brother's cheek. The guy had been holding back his emotions fairly well but remembering back on the glorious, wonderful times he and Rye had shared was too overwhelming. Comparing what their relationship was years ago to what it was now left a burning hole in his heart that only made him want to break out sobbing.

"I know you care, Rye," said Peeta quietly. "You want to keep that album and don't try to argue it because the fact that you refuse to get rid of it proves that. Those pictures mean something to you and I wish you'd stop trying to fight your own anger. I saw it all on your face when you looked at those pictures. Maybe you forgot about how close we were, I don't know. But that book obviously holds some meaning for you because if it didn't, it wouldn't still be on that table right now. If you didn't care, those pictures would be torn up and in the trash...not still in the album."

There was the longest pause till Peeta said in a saddened voice, "I know you haven't forgotten that I was your best friend and you were mine, but you still won't come back to me."

In that room was an eerie silence that was immediately broken by Peeta.

"I don't get it," he went on and it was clear by the tone in his voice he was now hurting. "You saw all those pictures, so you know you and I weren't always like this. You were my best friend once and I was yours. I don't understand why that can't happen again. What's stopping us from going back to that? I'm sure you don't like screaming and yelling all the time. Don't you want to put that aside and go back to what we used to be?" In a more genuine voice, he told him, "That can happen, Rye. You don't have to keep being the person you are now. That guy you were years ago isn't gone. He's still in there somewhere but you gotta bring him out. I know you've been angry for years but that doesn't have to last anymore because we both know what that album means."

"Means nothing to me," muttered Rye, suddenly deciding to sit down in the chair once more. Instead of answering his brother, he occupied himself by fidgeting with his fingers and occasionally stealing a glance at the album.

"We did everything together Rye," said Peeta and in a pleading voice, told him, "I want to get to know you again! I want us to do all those things together that we used to – having races, drawing together, playing baseball, having food fights in the kitchen and not caring how messy it got and everything else we used to do. Remember all those times we'd help Dad bake cakes and cookies and you'd always ask him if you and I could lick the bowls? We can still do that! You and I can bake together. You can show me how you make such great brownies and I can show you how I come up with designs and ideas for cupcakes. We don't have to go about our work alone anymore! We can work on things together and with the two of us combined, I bet we'd make them incredible!" He then went on in a grief-stricken voice, "I hate waking up every day and not being able to talk to you and have fun and have the relationship brothers should have...the bond you and I used to have. And now that I know how important you were to me, I...I just miss having you around. I miss coming home from school and spending the rest of the day with you. Remember that time we pretended to be pirates and we made Luchi be the shark and he chased us around the yard for hours? Or that time we played dragons and knights where the house was our castle and the woods was your lair?"

He frowned at the tremendous weight of nostalgia and in a grief-stricken voice, sniffled, "Remember all that? How much fun we had? All those games we came up with? How much we laughed at stuff nobody else would have?"

Rye lifted his head just slightly and from the look in his eyes, Peeta could tell the guy was deep in his thoughts and focused intensely. His brows were furrowed in contemplation, he was biting his lip endlessly and somewhere in his cluttered head a set of wheels were turning progressively.

"You were the best friend I ever had, Rye," said Peeta, feeling the tears flowing down his cheeks one drop at a time. "We told each other everything, did everything together and always had each other's backs. Remember what you said to me in that note? You promised me you'd always be there for me and that you'd always love me to the moon and back but—" and in a tremulous, angst-ridden voice, he added, "But I don't even know if you love me anymore. I-I don't know what to think. I want to believe you still care about me but so many times you've said I'm just dirt under your shoes and that I mean nothing to you. I want to think you don't mean all that and that you just say it out of anger but I don't know what to think anymore because things you've said to me don't make sense and...and I just can't make sense of it all anymore. I don't know how you feel about me but I still care about you."

A moment later Rye finally spoke up by saying frigidly, "Having you as a friend was the worst mistake I could have ever made. Should have never been friends with you at all. Why I did, I'll never know but it's a friggen good thing I smartened up and stopped that." Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced again at the album of memories and gave an amused laugh, but felt oddly confused. Staring at this massive book wasn't making him feel any more satisfied and for whatever reason, his laughing was cut short by his own silence. But why was he not adding more to his deriding mockery?

"There's more to you than what you let on," said Peeta and he too was fixing his eyes on the album with a bemused expression. "You say you don't care about that book but yet you won't get rid of it. You say I don't mean anything to you yet I catch you in tears. You say one thing but what I see when I look at you just doesn't add up. I don't think you're telling me all the truth and—"

It was then that something snapped in Rye. It wasn't a feeling of anger and resentment to his own puzzlement but it was painful and yanking at his thoughts. He figured having this book sitting just a few feet away from him wasn't helping matters much. Most likely it had triggered what he was now experiencing but whatever the case, it was painfully real. Just like he'd been when he'd spent those few minutes flipping through the countless memories of himself and his brother, he was swept up again in a sea of emotions. As if the situation was repeating itself for a second time, his eyes began watering, the tears started forming and were soon sliding down his cheeks.

"There!" cried Peeta, and was now observing his brother with far more interest than he had been previously. "You can't lie to me, Rye because it's there on your face!" Earlier, he'd seen the tears appearing on Rye's face but now he was watching it unfold all over again but this time, he was here to witness it. There was no possible way the guy could go on denying things now because he was once again shedding tears.

Rye wasn't even paying attention to what the guy across from him was saying. He was too trapped in his own inner conflicts to even notice the words reaching his ears. It all sounded so hazy and distant and even if he'd wanted to hear them, he wouldn't have been able to. A clash of sounds were now banging around inside his head that was now crammed with so many emotions. He wanted them gone and to leave him in peace but so long as Peeta and that album remained in his thoughts, they wouldn't be leaving.

"I'm not—" Rye began assertively, but Peeta was so worked up and didn't want to hear another lie come out of his brother's mouth.

"Yes, you are!" he shot back. "Those are tears on your face, Rye! Something's on your mind and I bet you anything it's got something to do with that album."

It struck Peeta that Rye most likely was breaking out in tears because of what the pictures had done to him, and he wanted to prove this was indeed true. If not for the book that contained so many beloved memories, he doubted he'd succeed in unveiling the truth in his brother's heart. He'd simply get hit with countless lies but he hadn't watched Rye in secret to be met with a collection of lies. He wanted the truth and despite how difficult that was going to be, he'd use this album as best as he could to uncover that. After all, he wasn't just doing this for himself – he was doing it for Rye. The guy was such a mess of emotions that it was clear he needed a light to guide him into realizing his own feelings, and Peeta knew the only person who could possibly offer that help was the guy who'd once been his dearest friend.

Without a word, he slid the album directly in front of Rye and waited for the guy to react. He gave no indication that he was even aware that Peeta had placed it in front of him. His eyes were on the floor under his feet but it would have been impossible for him not to have seen it appearing so close to him. Not acknowledging that Peeta had moved it told him he either didn't know what to say or he just didn't want to open his mouth and talk at all. That didn't matter to Peeta though because if Rye didn't want to open up the conversation, then he'd start up one for him.

"You don't want to get rid of this," Peeta said in a much calmer tone than he'd previously been using. "You say you don't care about this but I can prove you wrong. You told me what's in this book means nothing to you? I want you to prove that to me."

"What do you mean prove it to you?" asked Rye, pretending to sound overly confused. "How could I possibly prove that—"

"Oh, that's quite easy actually," Peeta interjected, placing a hand on top of the album. "If you can flip through these pages, look at all those pictures and not get emotional or break down in tears, then I know you're telling the truth. What better way to show me that you don't give a crap about our past?"

Rye chuckled uneasily and said, "T-that's stupid. I already told you how I feel about that book and—"

"I know that," said Peeta patiently. "But I want you to go one step further."

"Don't want to."

"Prove me wrong," Peeta continued, ignoring what his brother had said. "Prove to me that you really don't care about this album. Show me you can look at all these pictures without showing any emotions and I won't bother you anymore. I just want the truth and if you can give me that proof, then I'll know you're speaking the truth."

"I am though!" Rye shouted. He shoved the book to the opposite side of the table and groused, "You just won't believe me."

"You're right," said Peeta while sliding the album back over to his stubborn brother. "I don't believe you. That's why I want you to prove to me that you're right and I'm wrong."

"You're so wrong it isn't even funny," grumbled Rye.

"Prove it then."

Rye rolled his eyes, pulled the book even closer to him and uttered, "Fine. You want proof...I'll give you proof. Can't wait to see your sorry little face when you finally see this book is garbage to me. You just keep standing there and watch because you're soon gonna be the one crying when you realize you're dirt under my shoes."

He then went silent and went on sitting there for a solid minute without even once reaching out for the album.

"What are you waiting for?" asked Peeta calmly. "Open the book."

Rye gave him an arrogant sneer and chuckled, "Fine...but I can't wait to see the look on your face when you see just how wrong you are."

With another chuckle, he grasped the cover, pulled it open and began the lengthy process of going through each of the photos contained in the album. On page one, he was met with the same photos he'd seen when he'd first scanned through the pages. There were pictures of himself and Peeta sitting at the kitchen counter with their faces coated in chocolate; pretending to be pirates aboard a mighty ship that was in danger of being invaded by a menacing shark; having a food fight and not even noticing how terribly messy the kitchen was becoming; Peeta receiving lessons on how to catch and hit a baseball; having races in the backyard; swimming in a lake and swinging off a rope that was tied to a tree, and competitions where they'd see who could come up with the funniest, most hilarious jokes.

Where Peeta had been fully captivated by these photos earlier, his attention was now completely on Rye. His eyes never left his face which he was eyeballing carefully but so far, his brother was showing no signs of letting his emotions show. He had a blank, vacant expression that Peeta was starting to think he put on in times where he felt most vulnerable. Having been caught in tears had flustered him greatly but it seemed he was now putting that aside and wearing a sort of mask that wore no emotion whatsoever.

As he continued flipping through the pages, Rye wasn't giving Peeta any indication that these memories were returning to him. That empty look in his eyes was just as visible as ever but Peeta was tolerant and would have gone on standing there for hours. Learning the truth about where his brother's feelings stood was too important for him to ignore and walk away from. And whether the truth was something that would leave him ecstatic or upset, he had to unveil it.

Page after page he went through and was still wearing that same, blank expression. So many memories he revisited in these precious pages – he and his little brother doing handstands; finger painting; building sandcastles at the beach on a summer day; riding bikes around the neighbourhood; watching movies on the living room couch and sharing a large bowl of cheddar-flavoured popcorn, playing leapfrog, drawing animals in front of the bakery with various chalks, and running around the yard pretending to be superheroes.

It wasn't till he reached the final page that Peeta was noticing a small, but evident change in his expression. When his eyes fell upon the photo of himself and his brother smiling and with their arms around the other's shoulders, an intense, concentrated look came over him. While hardly blinking, he stared down at this photo and for that moment, he almost forgot Peeta was standing right next to him. As for Peeta, his eyes were fixed closely on Rye. His mind was now spinning in so many directions that he was starting to wonder what he was even thinking, but one thing was perfectly clear –Rye was lost in the story of this photo. Its meaning must have leaped right out at him because his eyes were so lost and absorbed in this single picture. Where before he'd given a quick, bored glance at each of the photos, he hadn't been as quick to leave this photo but rather, was losing himself in it.

A few minutes passed and it was then that Peeta was met with the most interesting sight yet. Where Rye had been engrossed in the picture and unable to focus on anything else, he'd also been fighting to hold back what he didn't want to emerge. What first started as a minor, uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach had grown into what was now an unpleasant sentiment. It fought to seize control of his body but for the most part, he managed to restrain it from getting any stronger. Nothing showed on his face, his body didn't break out in a tremor and he was even starting to think he'd prove his brother once and for all that he wasn't a liar.

Until that overwhelming sentiment resurfaced and this time, there was no holding it back. It had grown too powerful and before he had time to try and stop it, he felt them welling in his eyes. The familiar sensation of tears forming was all he recognized and next thing he knew they were trickling down his cheeks and he knew it was all over. Up till then, he'd done a good job at holding back any signs of emotion but it had been building and he could only suppress it for so long. Feeling the tears running down his cheeks was the worst thing he could have felt because it confirmed to him that he'd lost. Here all this time he'd went on thinking he'd prove his nagging brother wrong and shake him loose but he'd failed enormously. He'd been asked to glimpse at these photos once more without displaying any signs of sadness or longing but that final photo had crawled its way right into his heart.

Strangely though, this realization didn't last long because he was getting struck with something else. That sorrow and longing was now in its place and he found the longer he went on staring at the picture, the more painful it became. An itchiness was burning in his eyes and somewhere in his heart he found it was now beating faster than normal. And while he wanted to close the album and not have to stare at this photo anymore, at the same time, some part of him refused to look away. He was drawn to it but though he was caught up in his own personal dilemma, Peeta wasn't yet finished with him.

"Read that note," Peeta insisted, but his voice was shaky with overwhelming emotion.

Rye shook his head and stammered, "No."

"Read it, Rye," said Peeta more sternly. He pointed to the written words under the photo of himself and his brother and through his own tears said, "If you say you're right and you don't care about me or what's in this book, then you'll read this note with no trouble at all."

"Give me a break," whinged Rye and gave him a shove. "Now you're just being—"

"I want you to read it," Peeta repeated unswervingly.

"I ain't readin' nothing."

"Rye!"

"I said I'm not reading it!" he quarrelled with a maddening hiss.

He then made an attempt to rise out of his seat and leave the room entirely, but his younger brother stopped him dead in his tracks. Before he had time even to stand, Peeta's hands were grabbing onto his shoulders and forcing him back down into his seat. He wasn't rough by any means but he was firm and was in no way going to let this guy run off in fear and hide from his own inner battle. If he hadn't been watching him so keenly, the odds of him keeping Rye in his seat would have slim. Rye was just too swift for him to ever keep up with him but he wasn't aware of how closely Peeta was watching him. Even the slightest movement wouldn't have gotten past his little brother.

"I want you to read what you wrote," Peeta commanded. "Prove to me those words mean nothing to you. Show me you don't care anymore about how you once felt. Do that and then I'll believe you."


	32. Chapter 32

**CHAPTER 32**

 **NOVEMBER**

Rye struggled to break free of his brother's hold, but it was hopeless. He didn't have even half the strength Peeta had gained over the years and it wouldn't have been easy to break free of his grasp. There was no getting out of that chair and heading back to his room. He was stuck on this chair at this table and judging by the look on Peeta's face...he wouldn't be leaving till he'd done what was asked of him. Up till then, he'd stayed only because he knew leaving would confirm to Peeta that he was a coward and didn't want to hear what he had to say. But his nerves were getting the best of him and he wanted out of there, though he knew he wouldn't be going anywhere.

"Why even bother?" asked Rye sulkily and with a shaky breath, said, "Isn't gonna prove anything."

"It'll prove everything," was Peeta's staunch reply. "Read those words without breaking down or getting emotional and I'll know you haven't been lying to me and—"

"I haven't been lying," growled Rye, annoyed, and without hesitating for a second longer went on to read the words he'd written at the age of five. "You're my best friend in the whole wide world, Peeta! You're the coolest, greatest, bestest guy I know and I'm so happy you're my brother! You're funny and lots of fun to play games with. You've always been there for me and I'm gonna be there for you always too, little bro!" A slight choking sound escaped him but he hastily shook it off and went on, "You make everyday lots of fun and you're the best buddy a brother could ever have! I don't know what I'd do without you around." He took a moment to inhale shakily, exhale and then continued in just as shaky of a voice, "Thanks for being my best friend and teaching me so much!"

He stopped, dropped his head and went totally silent. The only sound coming from him was the occasional snivel but aside from that, he'd gone completely quiet.

"Finish it," prodded Peeta gently, though it killed him to see that his older brother was indeed fighting a squall of emotions at having to read this out loud in front of him.

"No," Rye refused.

"Rye, finish it," urged Peeta quietly, but with considerable patience.

After having felt yet another tear dripping down his face, Rye went on, "You showed me how to color, finger paint and even how to draw pictures. I know I'm not very artsy like you are but thanks for coloring with me all those times even though I kept coloring outside the lines. You and I are gonna be best friends forever, little bro!" He took a moment to try and calm himself down and still through tears, finished by saying, "You'll always be my favourite guy in the whole wide world and I love you to the moon and back and always will!" In a trembling tone, he concluded, "Your brother and best friend – Rye Mellark."

He'd officially gone through the entire album. Every photo he'd looked at and the note he'd written to Peeta all those years ago he'd just finished reading. There was nothing left to do or consider because what Peeta had needed was now on Rye's face just as it had been previously. Like when he'd searched the book in private, tears had consumed him and even now when the book was closed, still the tears kept coming. Like a river, they flowed down his face and through all the snivels and shaking of his head, there was no doubt he'd failed to prove Peeta wrong.

His younger brother was both relieved and numb at what he was now witnessing. He was relieved because it had just been made clear to him there was so much more to Rye than the guy was willing to admit. On the other hand, he was equally numb because watching his brother fight through so many tears was unsettling. He was so used to hearing his brother speak in his common, arrogant voice and act like he was in a whole different league than his little brother. What he wasn't used to was catching him trapped in a time where he was powerless to contain all his emotions. Rarely did he ever come across Rye when he was so exposed and in all the years they'd lived there, he couldn't recall the last time he'd seen him so shaken.

"Are you really gonna try telling me that book still doesn't have any meaning for you?" asked Peeta empathetically, his voice almost inaudible.

The answer he got was the opposite of what he'd expected.

"It doesn't," declared Rye. He sniffed, sighed loudly and said in a loftier, more conceited tone, "Still just as shitty and stupid as it was five minutes ago."

Peeta shook his head furiously and snapped, "You know that's not the truth!"

"Oh it is," said Rye haughtily, giving a shrug. "Sorry to break your little heart but—"

"You're lying to my face, Rye! You're trying to dodge around what you and I both know is the truth!"

"No, you just can't accept the truth because you're a coward!"

"You're the one denying what you know to be true! You say I'm the coward but you're the one who can't accept the truth!"

"You know that book's shit to me," said Rye smugly, and wouldn't even look his brother in the eye. "Biggest piece of shit I've ever seen."

"Oh, so it's shit to you but yet it leaves you in tears? How does that even make sense, Rye? People don't cry about stuff they don't care about! They cry about stuff they do care about and since you're crying, that book has meaning for you. The evidence is all right there in front of you!"

"Shut up and just accept it, will ya?" said Rye with an uncomfortable chuckle. He wiped his eyes and went on tenaciously, "You know you're wrong. Totally, one hundred percent wrong. You think that book means something to me but too bad it's really just crap and that's all it'll ever be. I friggen' hate that book and you know I do."

"Don't give me that, Rye!" barked Peeta and for the first time in his life, Rye was truly taken aback by the noticeable anger in his brother's voice. "You know that's not even close to the truth!" Not once had he ever heard Peeta raise his voice to the point where he was yelling but he was now shouting loudly and was in no way remaining calm. It stunned him in more ways than one and it was so eerie that the very room itself was starting to sound like multiple voices were screaming. He knew they weren't because the only two people present were himself and his now irritated brother.

"I-It is t-the truth though," said Rye awkwardly while dropping his gaze to the floor. Averting his gaze wasn't going to help him at all because wherever he looked, he could still feel Peeta staring down at him with that adamant glare.

"No, it's not!" Peeta contested, and opened the book to the final page. "If it was, then you wouldn't have started crying and getting as emotional as you are right now! You would have gone through all of those pictures with not a tear in your eye but I watched you and there's no way you can possibly believe you weren't in tears. You felt it, Rye. I saw it all over your face and you know too well it's the truth. You can't hide from what we both know is the truth. There's no point in lying to my face because I'm never going to believe you. You just proved to me that everything you're saying is lies because if they weren't, why did you stop halfway through reading that note? Why did you look so upset? You should have been able to read through that in a minute but you had to stop. Then you closed the book and started crying all over again and—" and here he couldn't help himself from raising his voice once more while shouting out with finality, "And there's no way what you say about that album and us is true!"

"You don't know who I am!" shrieked Rye heatedly, clutching onto the sides of the table and sending a look of hatred at Peeta. "You think you do but you're wrong! You'll never know the kind of person I am so why don't you just accept that you're wrong!"

"I'm wrong?" said Peeta and then said sarcastically, "So I guess all the proof I just got isn't really proof then? When you wouldn't get rid of that album? When you wouldn't tear up even one of the pictures? When you broke out in tears when you read those words out loud? It's all out in the open Rye and you can fight with yourself all you want but you've got to accept what you and I both know."

"There's nothing to accept because I already told you I hated it!" whined Rye, wiping his tears away but knowing it was futile. Peeta had seen it all and getting rid of the tears would do nothing because more would be there to take their place. No amount of denying what was right there was going to convince his younger brother to believe that what he was telling him wasn't a lie.

"But you don't! You're sitting here in tears just like you were when you were looking through it! I don't know if you'll tell me what's really on your mind but I'm pretty sure I already know. You're thinking back to when you and I were best friends. We were inseparable, Rye! You saw all those pictures! Everything we did together! How much fun we had together! We used to be there for each other but look at us now! We're nothing like we used to be and seeing those pictures kills me because it makes me miss what you and I once had."

"They're just pictures," mumbled Rye. His eyes were darting back and forth between Peeta and his hands on the table. He hadn't a clue what he was even saying because his mind was in so many places.

"They're pictures of us!" shouted Peeta. "Pictures of you and I when we actually cared about each other. No, that's not right. I still care about you, Rye. More than you probably know. I've cared about you my whole life and that's never going to change."

Rye scoffed and muttered, "Doubt it."

"If I didn't care about you, then why would I even be standing here?" barked Peeta, who wasn't even aware of the fact that he was now shouting. His emotions were now at the surface and he didn't even care if he was now hollering because getting through to his brother was all that mattered. He had to try and help Rye embrace the truth rather than rely on an assortment of lies that weren't sounding in any way truthful.

"Because you got nothing better to do," spat Rye, but there was a noticeable quiver in his voice.

"No, I'm here because I want to be," Peeta went on. "I think you do know that I care about you, but you're so caught up in your own anger that you can't see that. Or maybe you just don't want to believe it, I don't know. Maybe you know more than what you're telling me and I hope that's true because I don't want us to keep acting like this. I don't us to stand here yelling at each other, Rye. I want us to just forget about all that and...and just go back to who we were in those pictures."

For the longest time, Rye didn't speak. His eyes were glued to his hands on the table which were still fidgeting restlessly and as Peeta noticed, were shaking slightly. He wondered if the guy was starting to feel so overwhelmed and uncomfortable that he'd get up and leave the room and not bother to keep arguing with him. Why he hadn't done this already Peeta was all but stumped about but then it occurred to him that perhaps Rye didn't want to leave. As stressed and irritated as he was at having to listen to Peeta go on about their broken friendship, maybe he really did want to hear what his brother wanted to say. He hoped this was true because if it was, it suggested that the guy might just be starting to open up to the possibilities Peeta was presenting.

"We can't," Rye said finally, and his voice was so quiet that Peeta hardly heard it.

"What do you mean we can't?" asked Peeta. "What's stopping us from becoming friends again? It'd be so easy, Rye! Just let go of all the bad and let us be friends again! Think of how great it would be! We'd do all the things we used to do and we'd be just like kids again! There's so much we could do and...and I just don't get what's—"

"We can't be friends again," said Rye shakily, looking his brother in the eye for a short, fleeting second.

"Why not!" Peeta hollered. "Give me one reason why you and I can't have what we used to have? What's stopping us?"

"W-we just can't!" snapped Rye and he too was now shouting out of exasperation and grief.

"That's not a reason!" said Peeta brusquely. "There's nothing that's stopping us from going back to what we used to be. You're just trying to come up with reasons for us not to be friends again."

"Why do you care?" howled Rye, turning and giving his brother a violent shove. Peeta hadn't expected this and was forced back against the kitchen counter and though he wasn't hurt, the force of it all knocked the wind right out of his lungs. Rye meanwhile, was still glaring at him in what looked like a perfect mixture of anger, fear and longing.

"You know why I care," said Peeta sombrely.

"Because you care about me," said Rye in a mocking tone.

"Of course I do!" yelled Peeta and for what felt like the millionth time, the two locked eyes and stared into each other's separate worlds. "For god's sake, Rye...you're my brother! If there's anyone in the world I'd love, it's my own brother! I'd do anything for you and if you ever needed me, I'd be there. I hate seeing you so angry all the time and I wish you'd let me help you. I just want to know why you're like this. I want to know what happened to you...where the old Rye went."

"That person doesn't exist anymore," whispered Rye dazedly. _Dead._

"That's not true," Peeta quickly told him, desperately hoping his brother would grab onto whatever lifeline he could throw to him. "You can bring back your old self. You don't have to keep being like this. The person you are right now doesn't have to control you. That person you were as a kid can still come back. It's not too late, Rye. And whether you want to believe it or not, it'd mean the world to me if my best friend came back. You and I could pick up right where we left off and you could get your old self back...for good."

"Well, keep dreaming because he ain't ever coming back," stammered Rye, fighting hard to hold back another round of tears.

Peeta shook his head in empathy and confusion and asked glumly, "Why are you doing this to yourself, Rye? You're sitting here in tears telling me all these lies but I can tell you're hurting. I see it in your eyes, on your face, on your body and I can hear it in your voice. You're hurting just as much as I am having to see you like this. I don't think you mean what you're saying but you're too scared to give me the truth and—"

Rye swallowed hard and bellowed, "I'm not scared!"

"Then why are you acting like this?"

"Because you're driving me nuts! You just keep throwing all this stuff at me but I don't care about who I used to be. That doesn't even matter anymore! Those days are gone and there's no getting them back so stop thinking you can bring them back because you can't! You can't, I can't and I don't care to bring them back. Just stop obsessing over who I used to be. What? You really that desperate to have me as a friend again?"

Peeta sighed in discouragement and said in a genuine voice, "Rye, can't you see I care about you?"

"Well I don't care about you."

"You say you don't but that can't be the truth."

"It is!" screamed Rye. "I don't care what you say about me getting all emotional about those pictures. You don't know who I am! You think you know what I'm thinking but you don't and everything you think is true about me isn't! So stop thinking it's all just a bunch of lies because it's the friggen' truth! You want us to be friends again? Well, that's you! You're nothing like me and never will be and there's no way we could ever go back to what we used to be. We're too different for that and e-even if I did think about becoming friends w-with you again, I—"

"But you can!" said Peeta with passion. "Rye, I was once your favourite guy in the world. You read that note just like I did and you can't deny I meant a lot to you. You said so yourself. And just so you know, you meant just as much to me. Why do you think we were such close friends? Because we cared about each other more than most people knew. We didn't just see each other as brothers...but the best of friends. You were my favourite guy in the world, I was yours and it's a shame our friendship had to die. Ever since we stopped being friends, I've missed you like crazy. I've spent so many nights wishing you'd come back to me but nothing ever changed. Next day was just like yesterday and so were the days after that. I know I can't get into your head and see how you felt but it was one of the worst things that ever happened to me. Losing my best friend, I...I felt like I lost everything."

"Yeah, well I lost nothing," spat Rye dropping his gaze to the floor. "Got everything I need in my life."

"You lost your best friend," said Peeta sadly. "We lost each other and I just wish things could be normal again. We could have so much fun and do so much that we never got to do as kids and...and it would just be amazing. I want my old friend back and I'm sure you want me back as well. You can't say you don't what that friendship back."

"N-no I don't!" he said awkwardly.

"It seems like you do though," Peeta told him softly. "I bet deep down inside you, Rye, you miss me just as much as I miss you. I bet you're still in there past all that anger and I bet the reason you keep lying is because you're afraid. I don't want you to be scared though. There's no reason to be scared. I want you to leave who you are right now and go back to that guy you were so you can be happy again! The Rye Mellark I knew as a kid was my favourite guy in the world. He was an adventurer, made me laugh more times than I can remember, could make me believe that anything was possible and was without a doubt the nicest person I ever knew."

Rye glanced away but it was obvious he was struggling to keep his emotions in check. Tears were still forming in his eyes but he no longer cared about this. He'd been drowning in Peeta's words for the past few minutes that starting to cry was the least of his concerns. The pain tugging at his heart was getting worse and he didn't doubt that Peeta was aware of this.

"I already told you, we c-can't be friends again," Rye snivelled, biting his lip till a single drop of blood appeared. "Nothing's ever gonna change about us. Can't go back." After staring at the table for what felt like an eternity, he felt a surge of rage rushing inside him. There was no holding it back so without even hesitating, he raised his voice to an angry scream and hollered, "So stop trying to!"

"Rye, I—"

"No!" he hissed indignantly, clenching his teeth. "I'm sick of hearing you. Just...just let it go already! I don't want to talk about it anymore! Leave it alone and just let it go because I don't care anymore. I'm sick of hearing about albums and us and...and I just want it to stop!"

It was then Peeta realized he was fighting a losing battle. While he'd worked so hard to break through the shell that Rye was living in, his efforts had been in vain because their arguing had gotten them nowhere. His goal had been to crack the shell of hatred that Rye had locked himself in but that layer had remained unbroken. He was still just as bitter and in just as much denial about what he'd seen, felt and said over the past few minutes. The tears he'd shed had been proof enough for Peeta that Rye was clearly living on a collection of lies, but he still wasn't willing to admit to the truth. All the emotions that had poured out of him did nothing to help bring him back because time and again he'd refuse to believe what Peeta was telling him. No matter how foolish and ridiculous his reasoning sounded, he absolutely refused to accept the truth that Peeta was throwing at him.

In so many ways, he felt exhausted, beaten and drained of all his energy. All he could think as he stood there staring at the ground in defeat was, _it was all for nothing. Everything I said to him went in one ear and out the other. He knew he was fighting against himself but he still wouldn't believe what I was telling him. He just wouldn't accept the truth. Nothing he said made sense but he didn't even care...all he cared about was not having to admit to having lied to how he really felt._

"Fine," said Peeta tiredly. "If you don't want to talk about this anymore, we don't have to."

"Good," said Rye flatly and went on to fidget with his fingers.

Peeta stared at his brother for a moment longer and wanted so badly to think there was still a chance he might be able to get his friend back. He wished to be given some spark of hope that would show him that all wasn't lost and that their old, abandoned friendship could still be salvaged. To think what he'd said to Rye would end up forgotten was painfully upsetting. It was too unsettling of a thought and deep down past all his confusion and longing, he wasn't yet convinced it was truly over. He had to believe there was still hope that his best friend – the brother who'd loved him so dearly and unconditionally – was still hanging on somewhere and not gone from his life.

"Rye?"

"What now?" yawned Rye, who then snapped him a look that implied he wanted nothing to do with more conversation.

There was a pause, and after hesitating only briefly, Peeta asked him nervously, "Can I ask you something?"

"Depends," said Rye, scratching his head. "I'm pretty sick of hearing about that album so if that's what you wanna talk about, don't even think about it. I'd rather have darts in my eyes than having to hear you go on about that again."

"It's not that," Peeta told him, his voice quieter than ever. It was unusually quiet and even Rye was picking up on the fact that Peeta was feeling troubled about something. "It's...it's about us."

"Yeah? And what about us?" asked Rye with mock sympathy.

Peeta was about to answer, but suddenly found the words had vanished from his throat. One minute they were there and the next he hadn't the slightest clue what he'd been going to say.

"Aww," said Rye in amusement. "Poor Peeta. Man, you look like you just got your little heart torn into pieces. What's the matter pumpkin? Want me to get up and give you a hug? You lonely and need some company?"

When he saw Peeta still wasn't answering, Rye chuckled, "Jeez, you're a mess. What happened to you? Forget what you were gonna say? Probably wasn't important anyway, so who cares. Then again, I'd kind of like to hear what you wanted to ask me so get talkin' freak. What was it you wanted to ask me?"

Peeta felt like what he was about to ask was simply a last desperate attempt to get through to his brother. He wasn't very convinced the guy would even care one way or the other how Peeta was feeling, but it was worth a shot. After all he'd endured, he needed to give his brother a final chance and not just leave him there in the dirt. Maybe if he came right out and asked the question straight out instead of throwing out various other questions, he might think differently about both himself and Peeta. He hoped this would prove true but running Rye's words through his head made him all the more terrified. There was such little hope that things could be turned around at that point but even so...the question still needed to be asked.

"I want the truth from you, Rye," said Peeta in a numb voice. "No lies or anything else, just the truth."

"Just get on with it!" growled Rye.

"Just promise me you'll give me the truth," Peeta told him seriously. "I don't want another lie from you, Rye. I want the absolute truth and nothing else."

With a roll of his eyes, Rye snapped disdainfully "Just ask it."

Peeta hadn't even opened his mouth yet and already the room was starting to spin. Even his feet on the ground felt like they were starting to heat up, but he had to ignore this. His mind was working itself up but he had to look past this and focus only on Rye. Nothing else mattered.

"I...I want to know if you want to be friends again?" said Peeta softly, his voice trailing off into a distant whisper. He wondered if Rye had even made out what he'd said but he must have because he was now staring at him with a curious, slightly surprised expression. Only a hint of anger was present in his eyes but there was no mistaking the look of surprise on his face.

There was nothing left to do now but wait for his brother to answer.

For a moment, Rye's only reaction was to go on staring at Peeta as if he's just been asked the most unexpected question. His eyes were glued to his brother's and as Peeta watched him carefully, he noticed he was deep in thought. He recognized the face well enough to know that he wasn't just dismissing the question as foolish or a waste of his time. The intense look in his eyes told him that and the harder he looked, the more he wanted to believe that Rye was giving serious consideration to what he'd asked. Normally, he'd laugh and give him a rough shove while telling him he was a worthless guy who wasn't worth a second of his time. Or other times he'd mock him and think he wasted his time with everything he did, but he was doing neither of those things. He'd let himself take in his younger brother's words and actually consider what they might mean to him.

A minute passed but still no reply. Peeta was patient though, and would have stood there for the rest of the night waiting for Rye to come up with an answer. The guy sitting at the kitchen table meant enough to him that he'd take all the time in the world for him, especially if there was a chance his old friend might come back to him.

Another two minutes went by and still nothing. No words had come out of his mouth but his eyes were acting up again and it got Peeta thinking it all might just work out. He never took his eyes off Rye once and watched him more closely than ever, trying to get into his head and his way of thinking. He could see the guy was a mess – his eyes were red from his previous crying, he looked like he was barely holding it together and his lips were quivering – and Peeta had a feeling what was causing this. After all their bickering, shouting and arguing back and forth, it was now time to bring all that to a close. No more lies would be told and no more contradictions would occur because the time for discussion was over. He knew just as well as Peeta that this needed to be settled with one final, single answer.

Rye spent several minutes considering his little brother's words. " _I...I wanted to know if you wanted to be friends again?_ " He repeated them in his head over and over again but all that resulted in was even greater anxiety. With the tears, doubts and anger that blazed inside him like one colossal inferno that couldn't be doused, what he wanted was for it all to be over. He was tired of the nagging and even more tired of the constant arguing between himself and Peeta. It was all so confusing and stressful and the tears rolling down his cheeks only made him feel like he'd never unearth the truth. He feared he'd be stuck pondering about this one question for hours on end but he didn't have time for that. The last thing he wanted was to end up stressing about a question that should have been answered right away so he stopped his worrying.

After these few minutes had passed, Peeta saw Rye wiping the tears out of his eyes. A few small choking sounds escaped him but he didn't appear bothered by this. He simply went on wiping his eyes dry and then sat there for a few seconds longer. His eyes were staring at the kitchen table but then slowly, gradually shifted their way towards Peeta. Both their hearts were now beating faster and their minds were swimming in every direction. At that moment, Peeta wasn't even sure which of the two of them was feeling more on edge.

Rye gave a weary sigh and dropped his head without even uttering a word. By his behaviour alone, it was like the guy was so fatigued that keeping his head was too arduous of a task. It was taking in his brother's appearance at this specific time that it dawned on him how bushed and disoriented of a state he'd fallen into.

"Rye, are you okay?" asked Peeta with concern.

His brother only nodded wordlessly in response, but didn't turn his head to look him in the face.

"Did you think about what I said?"

He got another silent nod from Rye, but that was it. No words flew out his mouth, no budging from his seat, no wistful peek at their book of their youthful memories and no fiddling of his fingers.

"S-so...so what's your answer?" he asked in trepidation.

Rye buried his head in his hands and without hesitating, told him gravely, "I don't want to be friends with you again."

Peeta swallowed and stammered unevenly, "B-but, Rye—"

"NO!" hissed Rye in that familiar spiteful tone. "You said you'd leave me alone if I gave you the truth and that is the truth! You said you wanted the truth and there it is! Take it or leave it Peeta because I'm not putting up with it anymore! I don't care to go back to what you and I once had because it's not important to me anymore. I put that behind me years ago and no way am I going back to something I don't even care about. This is my life, my choice and you'd better accept it. I don't care if you want to be friends with me because that's you, not me. Point is I don't love you the way I once did. Maybe you meant a lot to me when I was a kid but those days are history. Gone. Dead. Whatever. Time to forget about all that and just live in the present!"

"But I...I thought you might want to," said Peeta, fighting to keep from breaking down completely. "T-the way you looked at our pictures with tears in your eyes, I thought you missed what we hard. I...I could have sworn you wanted that friendship back."

"Well, I don't," asserted Rye callously. "I just want to be left alone and for you to stop nagging the piss out of me. Keep those pictures to yourself but get it in your head that you're never getting me back. That old friend of yours doesn't exist anymore. He left years ago and...and he's never coming back! So quit acting like a child and move on already! Grow up! I don't want to be friends you, Peeta!" In a chilling scream, he then shrieked, "What about that don't you understand!?"

Peeta nodded and said shakily, "Fine. I-If that's how you really feel, then I can't change that."

"Dam right you can't," said Rye in agreement. "This is my life and I want you to stay out of it!" Without another word, he got up out of his chair and hurried out of the room while leaving his shattered brother completely and utterly alone.

"I still love you though," whispered Peeta in increasing distress. "Even if you don't love me."

There was now officially nothing else to be said. The battle had been fought but as Peeta now realized, he'd been fighting in vain. Through his constant struggle to open up his brother's heart, he'd been met once more with discouraging failure. He was no closer to helping Rye re-discover the person he was once than he'd been when he first stumbled across that album. It was so agonizingly clear to him. All the tears he'd seen in his brother's eyes, all the hollering and denying of truths and realizations were now flushing down the drain. It was now part of the past and as for the future, it would be an unfortunate continuation of what had occurred over the years. Like getting a hole punched right into his heart, he knew there was no hope of things ever improving between him and Rye. The hope he'd wanted to believe in had been wiped out entirely and there'd be no getting that back. Life would carry on, the two would go about their separate lives and their friendship would remain broken and dead.

Knowing this, there was no reason for him to stay in that kitchen any longer. He'd done all he could to try and help both himself and Rye, but he'd failed. All he could do now was leave and do his best not to let Rye's upsetting decision tear him about, though he knew it wasn't going to be easy.

When he walked over and picked up the album, all he could wonder was how things had gone so horribly wrong. How was it that the two had been such incredible friends but then years later that friendship had been shattered and left in a thousand pieces? What had caused them to drift apart in the first place? Why had Rye decided so unexpectedly to call off their friendship and why had he grown into such a bitter and angry person? Those questions and many more raced through his aching mind as he picked up the album and started for his room. He figured if Rye didn't want to see or hear of this book anymore, then there was no arguing that it belonged solely to him now. And while Rye might have wanted it out of his life, Peeta would never have gotten rid of it because it was simply too precious a thing to ever discard.

When he reached his room, he opened his closet door and glanced up at the highest shelf that held various books, drawings and other possessions. As he gave the beloved album one final look, he thought to himself, _we tried, but I guess there's no changing him. It was worth a shot though._ He then raised his arm, placed the album in the very center of the shelf and felt both saddened and thankful. He was comforted by the idea that this book of so many memories would forever remain safely in his room. If ever he wanted to glimpse back at the childhood that had been his and Rye's, it would here waiting for him. But it saddened him deeply because he alone would be left to re-enter these childhood memories. His lost friend would never be there to recall with him how amazing of friends they'd been as children, and all they'd done together.

A single tear slid down his face but he wiped it away and silently closed his closet doors. His mind then went to what he should be doing next and he came upon two things. He could either turn his attention to the questions he'd been asked to have completed for tomorrow. Or he could spend some time watching TV and then get started on that later. What he really wanted was to try and work things out with Rye but as much as he wanted to, that wasn't an option. He could either occupy himself with homework or see what was happening in the world of television. He figured whatever he ended up doing, it wouldn't really help distract him from the heavy weight that now sat like bricks on his shoulders.

Right then, he felt the best thing to do was sit down and let TV try and bring him back to a better place. It wouldn't do him any good to stand in his room drowning in his own emotions, so he made up his mind. Even if he spent an hour watching shows, it would still be an hour where he could hopefully lose himself in whatever was happening in that world. Even if it did nothing for him, it was all he could do. His own world right then was so heartbreakingly painful that he'd do almost anything to get his mind off Rye's final words.

When he reached the living room, however, he saw he wasn't alone. Seated on the couch was Rye and he knew the guy must have scampered out here the second he'd finished speaking with him. No doubt all he wanted was to forget everything they'd said to each other and return to the life that was his. There wasn't a chance the guy was going to allow Peeta to sit there with him what with how annoyed he was feeling.

It took everything in Peeta not to open his mouth and start talking, but he couldn't. Rye had made it all too clear to him where his feelings stood. Sure, he'd broken down in tears and had struggled to read through that note, but what difference did it make? So long as he refused to re-enter their friendship, how could the two ever go back to what they'd once been? The harsh answer was they couldn't and watching Rye sitting there with the flicker in his hand, Peeta somehow had to accept this. He knew he could never truly accept it though because his heart would always be hoping for the day he and his older brother would become friends again.

He was about to turn and start heading out of the room to get going on his math when out of the blue he stopped. Why he was stopping, he wasn't too sure of. But something was telling him to stay where he was so without questioning it much, he froze in his place. When he looked back over his shoulder, he saw a surprising sight. He'd expected to see Rye sitting there lazily with his feet on the table, flicking through the channels and letting out a belch. A plate of brownies resting on the table wouldn't have been surprising either, considering he ate them on a daily basis. Most times, that's how he'd always see his brother when he came into the living room, but that's not what his eyes were observing.

Rye was still sitting on the couch but he wasn't sneering at Peeta, laughing too loudly or mumbling to himself about how much of a loser his brother was. He was simply sitting there with his head down as if he was suddenly feeling very tired and was struggling just to keep his head up. His eyes were focused only on the floor and as Peeta watched him more carefully, he saw Rye was hardly blinking. His entire body had gone into a frozen state where it looked like he wasn't even breathing. It was rare that Peeta ever saw Rye like this. The last times he recalled seeing him like this was the night he'd been petrified of the vicious storm that had shaken him terribly, and that night after the first day of school where he'd peered into his older brother's room only to see him staring out his bedside window in a frightening trance. He'd also told his brother that there were times he'd heard him crying, kicking the wall or muttering under his breath.

Just like that night, Rye Mellark appeared just as lost, angry and confused. The clouded look in his eyes had returned and he went about five minutes without saying a word. It wasn't the brother Peeta was used to and though Rye was a truly unlikeable guy, it always concerned him watching his brother enter this kind of state. It scared him because each time he saw him like this, he feared he was getting closer and closer to some point where he'd lost it completely.

He was debating about whether to go back and finish his homework or stay there and try and help Rye. He didn't want to have to watch Rye enter whatever eerie, lonely world it was he went to; he wanted to step in, talk to him and make things right. He knew his older brother wasn't one to ever admit to needing help, especially from someone he constantly harassed, but there was something he didn't understand. He was even putting aside what the two had previously said about rebuilding their friendship. Right then, all he knew for certain was that Rye was troubled. It didn't' take him long to reach one solid conclusion – he wanted to help. It didn't matter how stubborn and difficult of a person Rye was because he was still Peeta's brother, a part of his family, and he didn't like to see him consumed by his thoughts.

"Rye, are you okay?" asked Peeta worriedly.

No response. Nothing but silence in the room. And though he'd turned on the TV to a sports channel that was currently presenting a baseball tournament, Peeta wasn't hearing this. Judging by the way Rye was sitting there like a zombie with his eyes staring into space, he figured he wasn't hearing much of it either.

"Hey!" called Peeta with concern, taking a few steps closer to the couch. "What's wrong?"

After a long moment, Rye turned his head and glared up at his brother. Gone was the clouded look that suggested he was drowning in a sea of confusion. In its place was a burning fire that was pointed directly at Peeta. His hands were clenched into fists and unlike before where his body looked still and motionless, it was now shaking. Why his body was shuddering Peeta hadn't the slightest idea. It was never cold in this room of the house, he was wearing a thick sweater and he wasn't one that got cold very easily. Even on the coldest winter's day he'd still act as if it was a mild, breezy day that belonged to spring. Knowing this, Peeta was hit with a realization. Rye's body wasn't quivering because it was cold.

It was doing so out of anger. Perhaps he'd nagged and bothered his brother too much and now the guy was starting to let that fury get to him. But that couldn't be it because he'd promised to not go on about that album and their broken friendship ever again. Whatever the case, it was startling him to see Rye re-entering that hellish state of ferocity.

"Are you okay?" asked Peeta quietly, letting the concern show in his voice.

Still no response from his brother. It was like he was invisible and not even there.

"Rye, talk to me!" shouted Peeta, watching him anxiously. "What's wrong? If you're mad about what I said, I'm sorry. I meant what I said though. I'm not gonna bug you anymore about that album or us or becoming friends again. I promise I'll let it go and leave you alone if that's what you want."

It was now clear to Peeta that something was obviously on Rye's mind. Why else would he have gone on sitting there silently with his head down and eyes nearly closed? There was only one explanation and that was because he'd gone to some nasty, uncomfortable place that Peeta couldn't learn more about. He knew it was there but despite all his efforts, he still hadn't a clue as to where this place could possibly be.

 _That's not like him_ , thought Peeta, puzzled and more than a bit worried. _I know he keeps telling me nothing's wrong but he's gotta be lying. There's more to this guy than he's letting on and I gotta try and help him. Maybe he doesn't want to tell me but there's gotta be a way to get it out of him. There has to be._

Peeta was now approaching his brother. He knew Rye would likely push him away or demand that he leave him alone, but he wasn't giving up. He'd seen that look in Rye's eyes that hinted there was more going on than he was aware of. It just didn't seem right to go up and work on his homework when his brother was clearly troubled. Who would be there for him if he needed company? If he left that room then the answer would be no one. He'd be left on his own to face whatever inner battles he had raging inside him. If he got punched in the face or given a brutal kick, then so be it. But he was a guy that always had time for others, even if the person he was helping was a hateful, selfish and lazy pest that refused to accept his help.

 _Something's bothering him_ , thought Peeta and was preparing to take a seat on the couch next to his brother who was now locked in a permanent trance. _I don't care if he says he's alright because he's far from okay._

His plan was to sit down and speak with his brother, but if only he knew that Rye Mellark had plans of his own. He might have been slouched over with his head dropped and his arms dangling almost lifelessly, but that didn't mean he'd left reality. He was still very much present in the room and the second Peeta had begun walking towards him, he'd sensed it. Out of the corner of his eye, he'd seen Peeta coming closer towards him and it was noticing this that he'd been struck with a raging fury. Where it came from, Rye couldn't have cared less. All he cared about was letting out the anger, and the only person he wanted his now magnified anger shoved onto was Peeta. It was bad enough he'd have to put up with everything he'd said to him about that album but to see him again was simply infuriating. All his words and things he'd said to him were rushing back at him in a blur and there was no escaping from that. The sounds rang in his eyes and got so loud he swore he could no longer hear the excited cheers coming from the tournament.

His brother stopped in front of him and asked in a fretful tone, "Rye, are you sure you're okay? Because you looked like something was bothering you. I know you probably don't want to talk to me right now but I just want to make sure you're okay. If there's something on your mind, you know you can always tell me and not have to worry that I'll—"

What happened next was so unexpected and so unbelievable that Peeta wouldn't have seen it coming. He'd been hit with a lot over the past hour but what he was then hammered with was so much worse than anything else. Even with the kind of person Rye was, it still caught him off guard to the point where he wondered if he was entering some horrid nightmare. There was only one way to describe what next occurred.

Rye Mellark exploded.


	33. Chapter 33

**CHAPTER 33**

 **NOVEMBER**

Peeta had absolutely no time to prepare for what was about to happen next. Even if he would have known, he still wouldn't have been able to move quickly enough or put up his hands to defend himself. It also didn't help that his older brother was far quicker in movements than himself. Growing up, it was always Rye who had the fastest reflexes, who could run the greatest distances and who came in first place in every single race at school. Because of this, it made perfect sense that he'd be capable of moving from the couch to his brother in less than a second, and that was exactly what happened.

Rye leaped straight off the couch and lunged at his younger brother in a speeding frenzy. Wasting no time, he grabbed Peeta firmly by the shoulders and started pushing him towards the wall in front of them. Peeta – who at this point was so stunned he wasn't even sure how to react or respond to this startling turn of events – could only go on staring at his brother in bewilderment. He had all the strength in him to turn the tables on Rye and shove him back onto the couch with hardly any effort, but he was too shocked. It wasn't so much what Rye was doing to him that had taken him aback because he wasn't a stranger to getting thrown around and assaulted by his brother.

What left him feeling staggered was that Rye had never acted this violent before.

All the other times he'd gotten punched and kicked at by his brother, he'd known it was because Rye wanted to annoy the living daylight out of him. He'd never landed him a punch that had seriously hurt him or left him bleeding severely; all the punches he'd given him were simply to push him around like a doll. This time was different though. There was a burning fire in his eyes that all but frightened him; there was a deep, guttural growl escaping his mouth and what with how rapidly he'd gotten off the couch, Peeta feared his brother was truly battling some inner demon. What that demon might have been, he didn't know but it seemed like the only demon he had his eyes set on right then was him.

Seconds later, he was pressed up against the wall with Rye's hands still holding him firmly in place. He could have easily broken free and shoved his brother aside but he was too puzzled and scared to think about doing that. All his mind was concerning itself with was the fact that Rye had transformed into a fuming, violent monster in less than a minute. A few single seconds was all it took for him to shift gears, leap off that couch and pin him like helpless prey against the wall. He'd gone from sitting quietly on the couch to diving at Peeta as if he was an enemy that had to be harmed and beaten.

"R-Rye?" asked Peeta shakily, staring into the eyes of his enraged brother. "W-what's wrong?"

"Shut up!" snarled Rye.

"Rye, I—"

"I said SHUT UP!" he screamed. "Just shut the hell up!"

Rye leaned in closer and brought his face so close to Peeta's that it was like the two could see into each other's souls. Their eyes were only inches apart and Peeta could feel the harsh, throaty breathing of his brother that sounded like it belonged to that of an animal. It sounded nothing like his brother's voice but instead, like a voice that should have been coming out of the mouth of an animal that was backed into a corner and churning with revulsion. "All you do is yap and go on about shit! I swear, it's all you ever do but you never shut your mouth! Always going on about crap but you never know when to keep that mouth of yours shut!"

"W-what are you talking about?" Peeta stammered in puzzlement. "I didn't say any—"

"Give me a break!" said Rye in a seething voice and at once Peeta felt his brother's spittle landing on his face. "I'm so sick of hearing your voice. It's the only goddam thing I hear in this stupid house! Peeta, Peeta, Peeta! That's all I ever hear and you know what, bro? I think I've had it with you. I really do."

Peeta blinked, dropped his gaze and uttered quietly, "I don't understand."

"You got that right!" spat Rye and gave Peeta a rough, forceful shove into the wall. The pain lasted only momentarily but the pain of his head striking the wall was minor compared to what his heart was feeling. The pain he felt towards Rye's words wasn't physical but in a way, was so much worse. The emotional agony of hearing him speak so coldly and heartlessly was like stones in his heart...stones that sat there and left him to suffer. "You really don't get much of anything do you?" He proceeded to give his brother yet another violent shove and this time, Peeta felt like hundreds of stars were swirling over his head. "You might not get much of what I say to you but who gives a crap? That's all in the past anyway. I just want you to be smart for once in your pathetic life and get what I'm trying to say!"

After a long pause, Peeta asked tentatively, "W-what are you trying to say?" By now, he could hardly speak. His mouth had gone so dry and getting the words out was even a struggle in itself.

Rye laughed in amusement, shoved his brother against the wall for a third time and said in as furious of a tone as he'd ever heard, "I'm sick of you!"

"Rye, I never did anything!" said Peeta briskly, but Rye was too worked up to let anyone else talk but himself.

"I'm sick of everything!" he went on harshly while glaring into his brother's eyes. "I'm sick of seeing everywhere I go! I'm sick of coming home every day and seeing you in the house. I'm sick of you always asking me if something's wrong when everything's fine. I'm sick of hearing your voice in every room of the house. I'm even sick of seeing you around school but not much I can do about that, is there?"

Peeta was speechless. There was absolutely nothing he could even think of saying in response to this, but he needn't have bothered because Rye's tirade and hurtful speech was only beginning. The words were now pouring out of him and there was nothing at all that was going to stop it.

"I'm sick of looking at you," said Rye in hatred, his furious eyes boring into Peeta's. "I'm so sick of having to live in this house with you. I even hate hearing your name get called for supper or to go help Dad with the cakes. I've always hated living here with you but I never realized how much I really hate that you and I live in the same house. I hate having to get forced to work on cakes, especially when you're right there next to me doing everything so goddam perfectly. And I can always see you staring at my work like what I'm doing is so lame compared to yours! I'm sick of how perfect you think you are and how you can never do anything wrong and that you're the best person in this family when you're anything but! You're the worst person in the house and everyone knows it! Mom and Luchi both know it and I bet Dad knows it too. I bet deep down he really thinks you're an embarrassment but pretends that you're a little angel, but I know the truth. You're a stupid little brat that I hate having to call my brother because I'd rather have no brother at all than have you! Luchi I don't mind too much because he always keeps to himself and leaves me the hell alone but you...you I can't even stand. You never leave me alone, you're always thinking something's wrong with me and you always get on my friggen' nerves! You're the worst brother a guy could ever get stuck with and I hate that you and I are even related."

An eerie silence had now settled over the room. Though the TV was still on, it seemed more like it was actually off. The disturbing hush that had crept its way into the room appeared to have a voice of its own, and was proving louder and of more powerful than anything coming from the television. Aside from that, the only two sounds that could be heard were the endless snarling of Rye's voice and an occasional gulping of air from Peeta.

"R-Rye, w-what are you saying?" stuttered Peeta and without even realizing it, his voice had now dropped to an anxious whisper. It was hardly audible, but Rye could hear it all too plainly. He was so wound up that he would have him even if he'd been standing on the opposite side of the room.

"Are you really that stupid?" scoffed Rye, raising a brow derisively. "Did you not get everything I just said? Or are you as big of an idiot as you seem to be?"

"You c-can't mean all that," said Peeta, not giving up on his brother. _No. He can't. There's no way what he's saying is true. I know he says it is but he can't really mean that!_ _He's just angry but there's gotta be somewhere inside him that doesn't agree with what he's saying. There has to be. It's just like earlier with that album. He says one thing but it doesn't add up. He's not telling me the truth...he's hiding it._ "I know you say you hate me and I get on your nerves, but I know you don't really mean it. Somewhere inside you, there's a different person. You showed me that when you looked in that album and I know that—"

Without warning, Rye grabbed a handful of Peeta's blond hair, gave it an agonizing yank and leaned in even closer. His breathing was now husky and sounding more like a threatening growl and the scorching redness in his eyes was reflecting off his own and directly into his brother's. The flames were rising higher and if the anger building inside him reached even greater and more frightening heights, Peeta feared he'd be gone for good. It was only a matter of time before the worst of his outburst surfaced and time was only ticking.

"Let me repeat things for you then," hissed Rye. After spitting on Peeta's face multiple times, he said in a truly spiteful tone, "I...can't...stand...you! That clear enough, bro? You need me to spell it out for ya? Or do I have to go and say it all again? And guess what? There is no different person!" Clenching his teeth, he went on in that same hissing voice, "This is Rye Mellark and you know what, bro? He's not going anywhere! The old Rye's gone and I don't care how bad you want him back because he'll never come back! He's just part of your stupid memory now and that's all he'll ever be...just a memory. You don't like the guy I've become? Well, too bad loser! This...is...me!"

"Rye, we're brothers!" Peeta reminded him. He didn't care that Rye had spit in his face, or even that he'd given his hair a painful yank. What scared him was that he was observing and speaking to a Rye that he was unfamiliar with. It was a Rye that sent chills down every inch of his body. He wasn't just hearing an anger and annoyance that he'd heard so many times before. What he was now listening to was sheer hatred and he knew he'd never once heard something like this before because the chills in his body were all but a stranger to him.

"You wish!" said Rye with a snort. "I'd rather call a maggot my brother than you. Hell, I'd rather call the dirt under my shoes my brother than you. See where I'm going with this? Or are you still so stupid that you really don't get it?"

"I just don't understand why you're like this," said Peeta quietly, his mind filled with ambiguity. His body gave a sudden shudder, and he had to fight to keep from letting every other part of his body break out shaking in the same way.

"You don't get much of anything, do you?" teased Rye with a snort.

He tightened his hold on Peeta's shoulders and shoved him backwards and actually managed to force Peeta flat onto his back. His brother didn't have time to keep his balance because it all happened so rapidly. One second he was locked in Rye's clutches and the next he was stumbling on his feet and hitting the floor. There was never time to prepare when it came to Rye because he was so incredibly fast and all his movements were nothing but swift that all one could do was wish they moved as speedily as him. The most Peeta remembered was seeing Rye's fiery eyes lock onto his own, being given a forceful push and then falling onto his back while the air got knocked out of his lungs.

He took a few seconds to regain his breath and then registered what just happened. When he lifted himself back up, he saw Rye glaring down at him with a burning fury. His hands were both clenched into fists and he didn't question that if he drove his brother crazy and to the point of ferocity, those fists could come into serious contact with his face.

"I wish you'd just let me help you," sighed Peeta, feeling defeated. "I just want to help you, Rye. That's what brothers do. They're there for each other, but you won't let me try and help—"

He was instantly cut off by Rye. He hadn't made out exactly what his brother had said and even when he tried repeating the words in his head, it all came back as gibberish.

"What'd you say?" asked Peeta. "I didn't quite hear what you—"

"I want you gone!" hissed Rye, his voice now rising to a shout. "Gone! I don't wanna see you anymore. Don't wanna talk to you, don't want you talking to me. Get it? I want you gone!"

"Y-you can't mean that!" argued Peeta, and there was a noticeable quiver in his voice. Things were happening too fast for him to even figure out what this was all implying. He didn't quite know what these words were getting at, but he feared it was heading in the worst direction imaginable. "T-there's no way you really mean that!" He paused shortly and then stammered, "I don't believe you."

"Believe it asshole!" was Rye's response. Not a single quiver or stutter was present in his voice. It was cold, hard and lacking any emotion Peeta had made out when the two had been down in the kitchen. That had long since vanished and was nowhere to be seen.

"But, Rye, I—"

"Shut up!" barked Rye, his eyes still alive with a wicked fire. "I'm so sick of having to listen to your bullshit day after day. It's driving me nuts and I can't put up with it anymore! Why I got stuck with a lameass brother like you, I'll never know. But I'm done putting up with your shit!"

The words that came out of Rye's mouth next were so startling and so unsettling that Peeta felt like he was getting knocked repeatedly in the head. He wondered if he'd shoved him so hard that when his head had hit the ground, he'd entered some kind of alternate world where nothing at all made sense. Was this in fact what happened? Was he no longer in his real home but instead, in a mere shadow of it? If this wasn't the case and he was truly home and this was reality, it meant what his brother was telling him was true. But this was a truth that crept its way into his heart and left a lasting numbness there and Peeta feared it would be a numbness that would last his entire life. The words that came out of Rye's mouth carried such obvious hatred that there was no possible way he could have spoken them so that Peeta wasn't hit with an overpowering sense of grief. As if the words themselves were alive, they latched onto his body and hammered him with a series of attacks that felt like he was getting stabbed at with the world's sharpest, deadliest knife.

"W-what?" Peeta managed to get out. By now, he found he could hardly talk at all and when he'd spoken this one simple word, his voice was weak, unsteady and shaky.

"You deaf?" spat Rye, and then said in a voice that was filled with nothing but hatred, "I said I want you out of my life! Gone! I don't care about you, Peeta! I'm too sick of seeing you every day that I just don't want to see you anymore. I've put up with it for too long but it stops now!" He then muttered bitterly, "I wish you'd never been born."

As painful as hearing this was, it was the words that followed that left such an unbearable pain in Peeta's heart that he feared would only worsen. It was a pain that froze him, shook him, turned every part of his body inside out and left him questioning every possible thing around him. It made reality seem like a dark, cruel existence that did nothing but hammer him with the most anguishing blows. Hearing the words roll off his brother's tongue made him want to believe he was stuck in the world's most horrible dream. He didn't want to accept this was reality. He wanted to believe he'd been forced into a nightmare and was unable to find his way out of it.

But he wasn't.

He and Rye were in reality, and the words that came out of his brother's mouth – though excruciatingly haunting on so many levels – were just as real.

"Why don't you go and get yourself killed?" sneered Rye with an unwavering glare. "You sure as hell aren't wanted in this house, so why bother stay here? What's the point? You really should go and do that, you know. Go and get yourself killed. I don't care what happens to you. Doesn't matter to me what happens. Just go and get the hell out of my life because I don't want you in it anymore! I want you to vanish. Don't even care where you go or what happens to you. I could care less what happens to you because I don't give a rat's ass about you anymore! Just get the hell out of my life!"

In a quivering voice that Rye barely heard, Peeta said with unmistakable sadness, "I hope you don't mean that." Tears pooled in his eyes and though he tried to hold eye contact with his older brother, it was just too painful, and so he averted his gaze to his feet on the floor.

"Oh don't worry," Rye reassured him, still glaring at Peeta with that constant fire of hatred. "I do..."

Hearing these two simple words made the pain resurface in Peeta's heart, but it was now so much worse than it had been just previously. A single tear that had formed in his eye rolled down his cheek, but he could have been standing there weeping with his head in his hands and still his brother wouldn't have cared. Despite the fact that all but a single tear had slid down his face, it felt like a hundred tears were filling his eyes and leaving him lonesome and frightened. It wasn't long though before this one tear turned into many and the pain was only deepening. Tear after tear slid down his cheeks but it was like he wasn't even there because Rye was acknowledging him in no way, shape or form. His attention was no longer on the brother he'd just finished assaulting emotionally – the guy was invisible now and no longer in his field of vision.

To say that Peeta was stunned and at a loss for words was an understatement. He was absolutely shocked at what he'd just heard from his brother. And how could he not be? For as long as he could remember, Rye had always been one to throw the nastiest insults at him and give him the worst knocks to the head that would leave him bruised and aching. He'd heard some pretty horrid stuff come out of his brother's mouth but never had he heard something as disturbing as this. Disturbing was the perfect word that described what these words felt to him. To compare what he'd just said to things he'd said in the past would be useless because nothing could even begin to measure up to the words that had just come out of his mouth.

There was nothing he could think of to say to Rye. He wasn't even sure if he'd be able to get out the words he'd think of saying because his throat had gone so utterly, completely dry. Along with that, his entire body had gone rigid as if he'd been turned into stone and had no ability whatsoever to move or make his way out of the room. The moment the words had been spoken, he'd been hit with the most unpleasant feeling, and it frightened him greatly. When he thought back on everything Rye had said to him over the years, none of them made him feel this numb. Most of what he'd thrown at him he'd swept them off his shoulder but there was no shaking loose what he'd just said. These words frightened him and the fact that it was coming from his brother – a guy who was his own flesh and blood and a member of his family – only made it that much harder to absorb. In so many ways, it felt impossible to even accept that he'd heard right but he had no other choice. Through all the agony that now sat heavily on his heart, he had to bring himself together and accept that he hadn't been hearing things.

He knew there was no reason for him to stay in the room. Rye had the couch to himself and he looked about as comfortable as a guy could get. He was leaning back with his feet on the table, his hands behind his head and his eyes were glued to the television, as if Peeta was no longer visible on his radar screen. He probably wasn't and Peeta figured it wouldn't matter if he walked over in front of him because Rye was done putting up with him. He didn't even glance in Peeta's direction to see if his brother was still hanging around, and this only confirmed that he indeed wanted Peeta gone. Out of sight was the only place he wanted his brother disappearing to.

"What's happened to you?" Peeta whispered gloomily. It came as no surprise to him to see that Rye wasn't even acknowledging that his brother had spoken. It didn't matter that Peeta's face was filled with obvious grief because all he cared about now was the screen in front of him. The fact that Peeta was now swallowed up in tears and crying made no difference to him. His mind was now purely on a baseball tournament, not on his grief-stricken brother.

Sending one last pained look to Rye, Peeta turned and quietly made his way out the living room and headed for his room that was just down the hall. His plan was to go to his room, crack open his homework and do his best to get that done for tomorrow. He doubted he'd be able to focus at all what with everything he'd just been hammered with, but it had to get done. Through all his heartache, maybe there was still a chance he could make it through those questions. He was in serious doubt of that happening and figured he'd just get battered once more by the endless sorrow that Rye's words had caused. Even so, he still had to bring out what bit of strength that was in him and at least make an attempt to have it completed.

What he wasn't aware of was the night wasn't quite finished with him yet. He was convinced Rye's painful attack on his emotions was the last of what the day had to throw at him, but he was mistaken. He'd barely made it out of the room when a new, but familiar sound grabbed his attention. In seconds he'd gone from focusing on math to wondering what was about to happen next.

The sound he'd heard was that of the downstairs door opening. He didn't have to be standing in front of the entrance door to know who was arriving home. They'd left earlier for the sole purpose of having to run a few errands and had been gone for hours, but were now home again. He expected the two would enter the house and do what they normally did which was prepare that evening's supper, but that wasn't what was happening. The moment that front door had been opened and they were stepping inside, he instantly knew what that night had in store for them.

The two were arguing. Like all the other countless times where they'd be caught up in their endless quarrelling, his parents were at it again. Even from up in that room, he could still make out so plainly what they were shouting and all he could hope was: _I wish they didn't have to fight so much._ The sound of his mother and father snapping at each other's throats was always an unfortunate one. So many times the calm, peaceful atmosphere of their home would be shaken by the sound of their continuous hollering, and he feared tonight would be just the same.

Without realizing it, he found himself no longer focused on getting to his room. The sounds from downstairs were now settling over him and freezing him in place. His eyes fell to the floor and while getting pulled into an uncomforting trance, he made out their shouting more clearly than ever.

"You're always saying that, Allan!" his mother barked and wasted no time in slamming the door behind her. "You say the same thing time and again and I'm sick of it!" Following her with bags in his hands was her husband who hadn't yet spoken over the past ten minutes. With how much his wife had been rambling on and going on without once stopping, he hadn't the chance to say even a word.

With a muffled sigh, Mr. Mellark set the bags on the kitchen counter and turned to face the witch that was his wife. "I never get what you mean by that," he told her honestly but with a much calmer tone than what she was using. "I'm not trying to—"

"Oh, don't even bother," she said in annoyance. "You know dam well I'm right about what I say. You think you're the brains but all you do is go sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. You're a pain in the ass and it's crazy how long I've put up with this. Here I never get a break from anything and yet you still go on like you've got all the answers, like you're some Mr. Perfect when you're anything but!"

"When did I ever say that?" countered her husband. "You tell me one time when I ever came out and said those very words."

"All the time!" she barked. "Every goddam day it's the same."

"I've never said anything like that," he argued firmly. "You're just making it up."

She scoffed and said with sarcasm, "Oh, right. Okay, and you expect me to believe that?"

With another sigh, her husband uttered, "Will this fighting ever stop? I'm so tired of us—"

"No, you know what," she said in animosity. "I don't need to listen to this. I've put up with too much of you already and it's stopping now. Just get supper ready and don't even expect me to come down and help." She shoved the bags towards him, gave him an irritated glare and then turned to hurry her way upstairs. While reaching the bottom of the steps, she called over to him, "I don't want to hear it. I've heard too much from you already and no way am I putting up with this shit tonight."

"Where are you going?"

What he got for an answer was the sound of her feet stomping up the stairs. It was obvious she was done with conversation and wherever she was going, there was no stopping her. Like a bull, she made her way up the steps and the higher she got, the greater the anger was becoming. Flames danced in her eyes and when she finally entered the hall and glanced to her right, she thought her head might explode. If she thought arguing with her husband had been bad enough, then she was now ten times angrier at what she now had to deal with.

Standing at the edge of the living room with his head down and arms at his sides was her youngest son. The fact alone that he was standing there at all was enough to drive her mad. Never did she allow this son of hers to stand around being useless and moping around while nothing got done. Why he was there in the first place and not getting things done was beyond her. The most she could do was shake her head in furious silence but that wasn't what was causing her to feel so enraged. As she examined him more closely, she discovered both his eyes were noticeably red, filled with tears that had been streaming down his cheeks. Even now they were still trickling down his face and the first immediate thought that sprang to mind was, y _ou gotta be kidding me._

It was too much for her to stand. Catching Peeta drowning in his own tears was a sight she was in no way going to tolerate. He might have gotten away with letting his emotions take over but so long as she was around, that would come to an end all too quickly.

"What is it now, Peeta?" she snapped and her annoyance had now been pushed to the edge.

When he turned and spotted his mother watching him with those burning eyes, he was snapped back to reality in a heartbeat. Gone were any hopes of getting a start on those math questions and possibly having them done for tomorrow's class. What he now had to face was his fuming mother and with how much of a mess he was already in, he feared he was in for the worst.

"N-nothing," he cried quickly. Even as fast as he was able to wipe his tears away, it did him no good. She'd seen him swallowed up by his grief and it was now time to prepare for whatever it was she had in mind for him.

"Don't give me that!" she hissed. Taking a few steps closer to him, she stood over him like a looming giant and glaring down into his reddened eyes, she growled, in a threatening voice, "Something's on that stupid mind of yours and you'd better start talking!"

"I-I'm fine now," he stammered, afraid to even look her in the eye. "I-I promise I'll stop crying."

"Oh, shut up. You gonna go on jabbering till the—"

"I swear I'll stop!"

Tittering under her breath, his mother told him impatiently, "I don't care that you stop weeping like a child. I want to know why the hell you're sobbing in the first place! What happened? You fall and hurt yourself because that wouldn't surprise me with how clueless you are. Your eyes look here and there and it's no wonder you're not tripping over your feet all the time. You failed a math test? That would surprise me even less because you don't even know a thing when it comes to math or much else for that matter and—"

"Mom, I-I'll stop," croaked Peeta quietly. He took a few nervous steps away from her but when she realized what he was trying to do, her anger was now close to flying through the roof.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice now so quiet it was close to a whisper.

Peeta opened his mouth to answer but then it hit him how foolish of a thing he'd been going to do. Attempting to walk away from this livid woman in these circumstances would have been the most idiotic thing a son could have done. It would have been equivalent to waving a red flag in front of a bull for the purpose of firing them up into a rampant, perilous charge.

"I-I'm sorry, I—"

"Don't you dare walk away from me!" she ordered in a seething voice. Quicker than he'd ever seen her move, she leaned over, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him towards her. She then grabbed him by both his shoulders and in a screeching tone, hissed in his face, "Who do you think you are anyway? You think you don't have to put up with me? Is that it? You feel you can just turn into a coward and run from your mother?"

"I-I wasn't thinking of doing that, I just—" but Peeta was too shaken to even continue. The words flew right back into his mouth and he knew how far from the truth that was sounding.

"Still lying to my face, just like you always do," she spat. She gave her son's hair an agonizing yank, causing him to squeal out it obvious pain. "Well guess what? You're not going anyway till you tell me why you were blubbing. And don't think I won't stay here all night because I will. I'm not going anywhere till you give me an answer."

From out of the corner of his eye, Rye could see both his mother and brother but he didn't bother to turn his head. The tournament showing on the screen in front of him was the only thing happening in his world right then. His mother and a guy named Peeta Mellark weren't things he needed to concern himself with. Pretending like they were in some other room in the house was the best thing that could be done right then. Besides, he knew the fighting was specifically between his brother and mother so why acknowledge that it was even occurring?

Peeta's body gave a slight shudder and in a trembling voice, he told her, "I-It was Rye. I...I showed him some pictures of when we were kids a-and I was hoping he'd maybe want to be friends again but—"

"You have to be joking," said his mother with a laugh. That laugh, however, abruptly transformed into that same shrieking voice she used so commonly. "When are you gonna get it in that dense head of yours that you and Rye have nothing in common! What did you think to achieve? That guy doesn't care to be friends with you anymore, so why are you still going on about it? Leave him alone! Just leave him alone and quit telling him things he doesn't want to hear!"

"I-I just miss him," he said in a saddened voice and was extremely close to crying all over again. "I saw those pictures and miss having him as a friend. I didn't want to give up on him."

"Well, one thing's for sure," she said in a cold, harsh tone. "He sure doesn't miss you...and he's definitely given up on you."

Hearing those words struck another set of nerves in Peeta and having no control over himself, one single tear rolled down his cheek. He was numbed by her words because as he compared them to what Rye said, she was likely right. He'd failed to bring his best friend back so whatever his mother had to say about the issue was bound to be the truth. It killed him but as badly as he wanted to be sitting on his bed in his room, attempting to leave would have been suicide. If his mother demanded that he stay put and not move even a foot, then that's what had to be done.

Peeta was struggling to hold his mother's gaze. She overpowered him more times than he could recall and as always, he felt tiny and worthless when in her presence. Like with others, she had that kind of effect but none so more than with her youngest son.

"What the hell's your problem?" she suddenly barked. She gave him a rough and forceful shake and said while giving his arm an unpleasant squeeze, "Can't you see that guy doesn't want to be bothered?"

"I was just trying to help," said Peeta in a dazed whisper. "I-I just thought—"

"He doesn't want your help!" she yelled, her face growing hard. "When has that boy ever come out and said he wants you to nag him to death? You're just like your father, Peeta! Always sticking your nose in places where it doesn't belong!"

"I only wanted to help him!" Peeta cried out, but wished he could put those words back into his mouth. He was so emotionally distressed that the room itself was starting to feel unsteady. There was no taking back what he'd said though.

"Don't you raise your voice at me!" she hollered in rage. "You think you can talk over me? Huh? You think you're gonna go talking over me! Guess you don't know what your place in this house is then. You're at the bottom, Peeta! And no way is my youngest son gonna start thinking he can talk over—"

"I didn't mean to—"

"Shut up!" she growled and raising her arm, she brought down her hand and smacked him squarely on the face. As for Peeta, he was so lost and rattled at this point that he hardly recognized the throbbing that was now burning in his cheek. He'd felt it so many times that it didn't surprise him anymore when that arose and left him aching.

"You know what?" she finally said, staring at her son in sheer disgust. "You've always been a disappointment to be but it wasn't till I saw you standing there sobbing like some child that I saw you for what you really are."

There was a short pause, and then came the crushing blow.

"You're nothing but a worthless child," she said, her eyes on fire. "Some worthless, stupid child I had to get stuck with when all I wanted was a daughter! So many years I've had to put up with you but I've never been given what I've always wanted. No, instead I get stuck with an embarrassment like you, a guy who's too caught up in his own foolish emotions to even get anything done around here. First it was Katniss and now Rye! You're such a mess that you just can't leave anyone alone! Always nagging and bugging but did you ever think maybe people don't want you pestering them shitless?"

There was another pause, and then she went on, "Why couldn't you have been a daughter and actually given me what I wanted? First Luchi, then Rye and even with him I wasn't even sure if I'd want to have another kid since I figured I'd just get stuck with another son anyway, but I thought we'd get lucky. They say threes a charm and I thought we'd finally get that daughter I wanted...but then you came along. The one thing I didn't want I got stuck with. Worse, I get stuck with a son who can't even control his own emotions."

When she saw Peeta wasn't responding, she added purely for spite, "You've always been a failure of a son to me, Peeta. You're an embarrassment to someone like me and just so it's perfectly clear, I'd give the world to have a daughter over you. I'd trade you any day for a daughter and no doubt she'd be superior to you in every possible way. But I'm sure you already know that's how I feel."

Peeta nodded dolefully and said wretchedly, "I know..."

She snickered and went on, "I even wonder sometimes if you even deserve to be called my son. If only I'd been given a daughter then maybe this family would be what it should have been from the beginning. No, you just had to come along and make a mess of things."

Peeta stared at the ground, fighting to hold back his tears of anger and angst.

"I'll never love you the way I'd love a daughter," she declared. "And don't ever think I'd love you the same as I would a daughter because that's downright impossible."

"I won't," said Peeta, keeping his chin tucked into his chest.

"Then show me you get what I'm saying," she barked, crossing her arms and glaring at him impatiently. "Tell me what I just said to you. I need to know you understand that—"

"I do," said Peeta weakly, but was cut off as usual. Since his mother was the ruling figure of this household, allowing her son to speak over her would not be tolerated in the slightest way.

"I don't believe you."

"Mom, please," begged Peeta, flinching in agitation of what was to come.

"SAY IT!" his mother screamed.

Peeta inhaled shakily and said with difficulty, "You'll n-never love me the way y-you would a daughter." _She'll never love me the way she would a daughter._

"Good," said his mother, pleased for the moment. "Now keep going. A daughter would have always been better than you."

Tears were streaming down her son's face, but she felt no sympathy for his indescribable pain. She'd never been empathetic towards his suffering and was even less so to that day. It didn't matter that he was rapidly falling apart because her method of punishment would not be denied. She was a woman insisted on maintaining total control over all situations, especially when it came to dealing with the son she frowned so greatly upon. While he felt distraught and at a loss for their daily quarrelling and constant struggles, all she felt was growing impatience but she would not be kept waiting, and he knew this perfectly well. After all, she wasn't a person of much patience and when it came to this son, that trait wasn't even existent.

"What are you waiting for?" she yelled, giving his blond hair yet another uncomfortable yank. "Say it! Or I'll get that rolling pin out and really give you something to cry about!"

"A daughter would have always been better than me." _A daughter would have always been better than me._

"A daughter was what I always wanted. Having a son wasn't what I wanted."

"A daughter was what you always wanted," Peeta went on, but had to stop himself. He wiped his tears away, let out a choking sound that was filled with enormous sorrow and snivelled, "Having a son wasn't what you wanted." _A daughter was what she always wanted. Having a son wasn't what she wanted._

"My life was ruined the day you were born."

"Your life was ruined the day I was born." _Her life was ruined the day I was born._

"You'll never make me happy the way a daughter would have."

"I'll never make you h-happy the way a daughter would have." _I'll never make her happy the way a daughter would have._

"You're the reason I was never given the family I wanted."

"I'm the r-reason you were n-never given the f-family you wanted," cried Peeta. _I'm the reason she was never given the family she wanted._

"You should never have been born," she spat out in disdain.

She was met with silence, but she was in charge and that wasn't going to last.

"Finish it!" she bellowed, her deafening voice echoing in every room of the house. "Did I say I was finished with you? Did you hear me say I was done with you? You finish it or I'll—"

"I should n-never have b-been born," gasped Peeta who was now on the very brink of sobbing. I...should...never...have...been...born. Of all the countless punishment he'd received over the years, never had he been given one that was so horribly painful. Where the blows and smacks had left his face sore and with occasional bruises, this was worse on so many levels. This was personal and the form of torture she'd inflicted upon him couldn't have proven to be any more unbearable. She'd stabbed him in the heart with his words and like Rye, was causing his emotions to rise to the surface and take over him.

She gave a satisfied smile and said in contentment, "Well, least you know how I feel about you. Guess that's one good thing I can say about you. You know a daughter would have always been superior to you and nothing can ever change that."

"You monster!" came a howling voice.


	34. Chapter 34

**CHAPTER 34**

 **NOVEMBER**

Mrs. Mellark didn't have to turn to see who the new arrival was. She gave an annoyed roll of her eyes and spat out, "What now, Allan?"

"How dare you talk to our son like that!" he said in a voice that was close to a scream. "You say he doesn't deserve to have you as a mother? You don't deserve to have him as a son and you definitely don't deserve his love!"

After having been told by his wife to prepare supper, he'd noticed they'd forgotten something, and so he'd had to run back out to the store that was just down the street. A few minutes was all it had taken for him to head out, get what they needed and return home. When he'd opened the door and the sound of his wife's screaming voice and son's consistent cries were all that could he heard...he'd been struck with such a surge of overwhelming anger.

She waved him off dismissively and argued, "You know he deserved what he got. And you know just as well as I do he's nothing what a daughter would be. Don't deny it, Allan. You can't argue with what you know is the truth."

"Give me a break!" he snapped and a few seconds was all it took for him to make his way over to her. "You think that boy deserved what you just said to him? You really, truly believe he deserved to be told that?"

"You know I do," was all she could, staring him straight in the eye.

"How dare you," he said and was so infuriated that he had to keep his entire body from exploding. "How DARE you say that to such a wonderful son! A son who's never done you any harm, or done anything to even remotely deserve what you just said to him! How can you not see how lucky you are to have such an amazing son?"

"What's wrong with you?" she said with an incredulous shake of her head. "Are you that blind? Can you not see how cursed we are to have gotten stuck with such a—"

"Curse?" he screamed, chills running down his spine. It was like the words he was hearing were too appallingly dreadful to even be real and not part of some wicked nightmare. "You think our son's a curse?"

"Just stating the obvious," she hissed while throwing a loathing glance at her jolted son. The guy was so painfully numb that he swore he'd been taken to another world. To think he was home and hearing his parents shouting and barking at each other like this was an unsettling one. Worse, the person his mother was speaking so unkindly of was himself. All the slurs and malicious words that were filling the air felt like a poison that was swiftly, indubitably suffocating him.

"You call yourself a mother?" asked her husband and his face was quickly growing red. "What kind of mother even thinks of speaking to their son like that? I t's sick is what it is!"

"He deserved it!" she snapped. "Might even have to give him another smack just to ensure he—"

"You're not gonna lay another finger on that boy!" her husband hollered. "Not another finger on him, you hear me?"

"What? So you're not gonna let a mother punish her own son?" she asked in antipathy. "He needs to be told these things, Allan!"

"You should never have been born?" he yelled, and tears were filling his eyes. They were tears of anger, sadness, disbelief and so many other emotions that were showing on his face. "How can you say such a thing to a boy who's your own flesh and blood! For god's sake, Nora…he's your son! How can you be so cruel to a boy who's part of this family? What has he ever done to make you hate him so much?" He then couldn't contain himself from hollering, "Why can't you love him like any other mother would?"

"Because he's not what I wanted," she snarled.

"What you wanted was a child and you—"

"No!" she retorted, her face now just as red as her husband's. "You know he's not what I wanted."

"A child was what you wanted, Nora!" he strictly reminded her. "And that's exactly what we were given. Three children was what you wanted. Three children that would become part of this family and that's what we got!"

"I wanted a daughter, Allan! A daughter! I didn't ask to have another son come crawling into this family! Two was enough! I didn't ask for a third!"

"Look what he's done for you," her husband pointed out. "And look at how you've treated him. He's always given you something for your birthday! I've seen him spent hours baking and decorating a cake especially for you and what do you do in return? Ignore it like it's not even there! It didn't matter what he made for you either – cheese buns, pastries, cookies, cupcakes, muffins – it was always the same. Not once did you ever thank him or show him signs that you actually appreciated all that effort and time that was put into it. And what about Mother's Day? He picks the most beautiful flowers, puts them in a vase, presents them to you and what do you do? Throw them out and say they're no good! All those years he was trying to be nice to you and all you did was go shoving it back in his face! It was the same with Christmas and birthdays for Peeta. We'd go shopping but you never picked out what he might like because you didn't care what that boy got. It wouldn't have mattered if he got anything at all. I was always the one thinking about him but you...you've never thought of your son. It's always about you. Always about you but never about your son."

His wife's only response was to stand there rolling her eyes as if the whole situation was boring her terribly. She even went so far as to yawn and check the clock on the wall as if wondering how much longer this squabbling with her husband would go on for.

Mr. Mellark shook his head in anger and disbelief and with dead seriousness, told her, "You apologize to your son!"

"There's nothing to apologize for!" she shot back. "What I told him is the truth and I'm not gonna hide that from him!"

"So that's it then?" he barked, biting his lip out of such aggravation. "You're not gonna apologize to your son when he's probably hurting more than you'll ever know? How do you think he feels about you telling him that? You think it doesn't hurt him when he hears his own mother admitting she'd love a daughter more than him! Can't you put yourself in his shoes for just one second and re-consider what you're saying to him? What do you get out of doing this to him, Nora? How can you not care about what he thinks of this, of everything...of you!"

"I don't care what he thinks," she told him selfishly. "He'll never understand how much I wanted a daughter. I wanted one for years and then he had to come along and ruin everything! He ruined my one chance at finally getting what I wanted."

"Why is it always about you?" her husband implored through tears. "How can you not care about how your own son feels? Look at what you've said and done to him over the years, you...you've been a monster to him! I don't think I've seen you ever hug him or tell him you actually love him. No, you're just always giving him a rough time for reasons that I'll never make sense of. Giving him punishments he doesn't even deserve, throwing things in his face that shouldn't be said and it's...it's disgraceful!"

"You can't make sense of anything," she scoffed unfeelingly. "You're so—"

"No, you're just so blinded by your own anger at not having gotten what you wanted, which was a daughter! And now you're treating Peeta like he doesn't even deserve to be your son when really, he's an incredible son that we were blessed to be given! You've had everything you could ever want right in front of you this whole time but you're so infatuated with your own self that it's like it's not even there! You should be embracing the son you were blessed with, Nora...not hating on it!"

"Blessed?" she sniggered under her breath. She then muttered indifferently, "Maybe for you, but I still see it as a curse.

"You're not the same woman I met all those years ago," he stated in a daze.

"You're just figuring that out now? When are you gonna realize that boy—"

"No!" snapped her husband, cutting her off. He was too sapped and exasperated to suffer through any more of her pitiless affronts. "You can't say he's the reason you're like this!"

"He is, Allan!" shrieked his wife, not even caring how much of this hollering Peeta was hearing. "You heard what I said! He's the reason our family's the way it is. If he'd come out a daughter...this wouldn't have happened!" Of course, he was absorbing every word and though she didn't care one way or the other, he was breaking inside the more he heard. Each word was like a sword to his heart and in these few horrid minutes, he was learning just how much he was despised by his witch of a mother. He'd held out hope over the years that maybe somewhere inside her she did care about him but from what she was saying...she didn't.

As to how long the two would go on snapping at each other's throats, Peeta wasn't sure. It could have went on for another hour; all he knew was that it was killing him. All the screaming and yelling was starting to take its toll on him and he needed to get out of that room. It wouldn't matter where he went because he'd still hear their piercing voices, but he couldn't stay there. So without even giving it another thought, he turned and started down the hall.

He'd barely taken a step when he noticed Luchi appearing from behind him. The guy must have just arrived home and no doubt he'd been spending the afternoon with his friends. What they'd been doing, Peeta could only guess at because he never really knew what sort of things Luchi did in his own time. What he knew for certain was that every chance he got, he was out and spending time with his friends and not home spending time with his youngest brother.

"H-hi Luchi," said Peeta quietly.

Luchi turned, gave him one of his usual looks and said casually, "Oh, hey." He then noticed the redness in Peeta's eyes and the tears sliding down his cheeks and figured his screaming parents had something to do with that. "What's going on?"

"They're fighting again," was all Peeta could say. "But I've never heard them like this before."

"Oh," said Luchi, who dropped his gaze to the floor. There was an awkward silence before he told him, "Well...that sucks."

Peeta nodded shakily and said, "H-hey, are you doing anything tomorrow?"

"Why?" asked Luchi. He was now redirecting his attention to his phone which had started beeping the moment Peeta had begun speaking.

"If you're not busy," said Peeta, realizing how much more interested Luchi was in his phone than what he was saying. "I was hoping you and I could maybe do something. Do you want to go to a movie, or go down to the Hob and have some lunch and—"

"Sorry, I'm busy tomorrow," said Luchi quickly, closing his phone and putting it in his pocket. "My friends and I already got plans, and I'm busy for the next few days too. Maybe another time?"

Peeta stared at him for the longest time and in a quiet voice, said, "T-that's fine."

With that, Luchi turned and made his way over to his room. He shut his door and that was the end of their short, brief minute-long conversation. Peeta should have known he'd get "maybe another time" for an answer, but he never stopping hoping the two could spend time together. It was too obvious though that Luchi was more concerned with what he and his friends did, and it seemed there'd be no changing that. It was just the way things were.

When he saw the light flicker on in his older brother's room, he remembered he'd been meaning to head to his own room as well. As he walked and kept his eyes on the door to his room, both his mother's and Rye's words kept coming back to him, repeating themselves over and over and becoming louder each time he heard them.

" _Why don't you go and get yourself killed?_ "

" _You should never have been born."_

Slowly and tiredly he made his way over to his room and with each step he took, he felt like his feet weighed a hundred pounds. His room was suddenly appearing miles away and just when he was wondering if he'd ever make reach it, he did. To his left, he could still hear the blaring television and knew that Rye was likely stuffing himself silly with chips and pop, and was likely having a glorious time now that his brother was out of his sight. As for his mother, she was probably downstairs at that very moment till silently going on to herself about how much she'd wanted a daughter. For a few seconds, the sound of his brother's scornful laughter and his mother's hollering screams came traveling down the hall and crept up on as if they were living things. The harder he listened, the more it struck him that what he was hearing wasn't Rye's laughter, or his mother screaming. He was hearing those painful remarks that refused to go silent but rather, continued to torment and disturb him one word at a time.

" _Why don't you go and get yourself killed?_ "

" _You should never have been born."_

He couldn't stand there any longer. It would only bring more pain if he did, and he feared the more he went on listening to these words, the more they'd jab at his heart like thorns, and would go on doing so repeatedly. Staying there would only cause him more harm. He knew if he did his mother and Rye's words would only come back to haunt him again and again, so he went and did what he'd planned on doing from the start, and that was to finish up the few questions he'd been assigned for homework.

When he entered his room, he shut his door, decided not to lock it and walked over to his bed. Peeta wasn't one to lock his door often and the only times he ever did was if Rye was in a particularly spiteful mood and wanted to land a nasty punch to his head. Or, there was the few times his mother would try and give her son a proper punishment and the only way he could avoid her would be to shut his door, giving her no choice but to not bother with him and return to whatever it was she was doing. He never had to worry about his father and Luchi, since his father was the only person in the house that truly cared about him and Luchi always kept to himself and didn't waste his time going into his youngest brother's room. If not for Rye and his mother, he'd have his door open every day of the week. But he had to be cautious and keep a watch out for Rye and his mother because he could never quite tell when they'd next decide to come after him.

What he really wanted right then was to crawl under the covers and head to sleep right then, but he couldn't. Not only did he have to ensure his math got done for tomorrow, but he'd have to head down to supper in under an hour and he wasn't one that liked going to bed hungry. If ever he was forced to go to bed without supper – one of the easiest, simplest ways his mother would punish him – he'd typically be up half the night with a growling stomach. That would then result in him waking up in somewhat of a cranky mood and though he always managed to turn things around rather easily, it still wasn't how one would want to spend their night.

Flipping open his book, he found the page he was looking for. At a first glance, the words looked jumbled and somehow muddled but he blinked, relooked and saw there was nothing wrong with them. He was simply shaken from what he'd just encountered with Rye and his bickering parents, and so he was starting to see things funny. There were exactly ten questions that needed to be done, and so far he'd gotten pretty good in terms of his speed. He recalled his first week of math class, and how it had taken him almost an hour to get through even a page of homework, but he'd gotten much faster since then. He could now be given a page of questions and work through them without too much difficulty and if not for Katniss's help, hands down he'd still be struggling.

With his pencil in his hand and binder in front of him, he got down on his stomach, leaned on one elbow for support while putting his hand on his cheek, and got started. It took him a moment or so to calm himself down because as he noticed, his hands were beginning to shake. They quivered unsteadily but after a few deep breaths, he found his body gradually relaxing. Both hands were still shaking somewhat but he'd have to ignore it the best he could and focus on getting through the assignment. As he'd hoped, he managed to make his way through each of the questions rather quickly and glancing at the clock on his wall, he guessed he'd be done sooner than he expected. He'd prepared to be at his homework for half an hour but if he continued at the pace he was currently working at, then he'd surely be done in fifteen minutes or less.

What he was oblivious to was that each of the questions he'd worked his way through had all been solved incorrectly. From step one he'd gotten the process wrong but he was trying so hard to keep his mind on the numbers and symbols in front of him that he hadn't seen the errors in his attempts. While the equations were doing a fair job at occupying his mind, he was too shaken and rattled to really solve these questions accurately.

It was when he reached the seventh question that it came back to him. The voices hadn't bothered him since he'd opened his book and got going on his math, but it was re-emerging. He'd held up the hope that it wouldn't return and that he could focus on his homework in peace but as he now realized, that was practically impossible. How could he ever truly put his concentration on schoolwork when his mind was nowhere but on what he'd just heard in the living room of his own home? Such anguishing words that felt more agonizing than any blow he'd received from his mother over the years. Not even when she'd blackened his eye with a thrust to the face when he was twelve years old could compare to the pain he felt when the words resurfaced in his mind. This was a pain he was unfamiliar with, as it wasn't one he'd ever really experienced throughout his life, nor had he ever been introduced to it. It was new, unsettling...and unforgettable.

" _Why don't you go and get yourself killed?_ "

" _I'll never love you the way I'd love a daughter."_

But he had to put it at the back of his mind as best he could though and get the last four questions done. If he could just get through these few questions, go eat supper and then head back to his room and crawl into bed, then tomorrow's art class would be here before he knew it. Time always went by faster when he kept himself busy, and keeping his mind occupied with math would surely do the trick. The only obstacle that was preventing him from truly focusing on equations and word problems were the haunting words spoken by his brother and mother. Of course he had to try his hardest to stay positive and convince himself that what Rye and his mother had said weren't true in the slightest, but that wasn't easy when deep down he knew for certain that the two hadn't been lying.

They'd meant what they'd said, and there wasn't a thing Peeta could do to persuade himself that he was in fact correct in thinking their hurtful words were false, because they weren't. Anyone would have picked up at once the tone in their voices and how there wasn't a hint of regret, sympathy or love in them. They'd meant every word they'd said and it killed Peeta knowing this. If the words had come from a stranger, or from someone he hardly knew, maybe it wouldn't have felt so wounding. But the words had come from his own brother and mother and the fact that he'd been told this from members of his own family was all but unbearable. And despite that he and Rye shared no brotherly bond like they'd once had, this made no difference to Peeta because it still left him with an aching heart. Where others would have given up on a guy like Rye and felt no determination to try and help them, Peeta wasn't like that. He cared about Rye even if his older brother clearly didn't share those same feelings in return.

It was the same with his mother. Even though he wasn't the child she'd always desired and even though she made a point to emphasize this to him, he still wanted to help. He wished he could make her a happier woman and show her that he wasn't the horrible, worthless son she constantly believed him to be, but that wasn't possible. He could have been the most incredible son in the world and that would have slid right off her shoulders. What she'd wanted was a daughter and the simple fact that he'd come out a son...he'd never be able to make this woman happy or proud, let alone please her. Like with Rye, he'd gotten nothing but failure for trying to bring change and all he was met with an endless amount of pain. It was a kind of pain that no one deserved to experience, and it was one he knew would never truly vanish from his thoughts, let alone from his shattered heart.

Somehow he was able to finish the last four questions. Though his mind was swimming with unpleasant thoughts, he fought through them and focused only on getting his homework done. It felt like a huge relief when he completed the final question, as if he'd just gotten through a ten-page test that had left him exhausted. He could now put his binder away, forget about math and turn his attention to what tomorrow might bring. Before he had any time to sit there and think ahead to the following day, he heard his father calling him for supper. He dropped his bag into his closet and as he walked out of his room, he heard his brother's snarling voice reappear once more in his mind. As he'd been doing for the past twenty minutes, he did his best to shove it out of his mind as he sauntered down the hall, but was met with no luck.

" _Why don't you go and get yourself killed?"_

As he feared, his mother's voice came next and it was only adding to the pain.

" _You're nothing but a worthless child."_

When he reached the kitchen and walked in, he saw everyone was already seated. His father was at the far end and next to him was his mother and opposite them were Luchi and Rye. No surprise, there wasn't any conversation amongst them. Usually, they'd discuss simple, ordinary things like the weather, the bakery or anything else that popped into their heads. Other than that, dinner with the Mellarks was quiet and involved little conversation.

Tonight was by far the quietest meal they had ever experienced. As Peeta sat there eating his steak and not saying a word, he didn't have to look to his right to know that Rye was staring at him. From where he sat, he could feel the fiery rage radiating from his skin and at once, his brother's words came back to him. _Why don't you go and get yourself killed?_ Rye's mouth might not have been opened and hissing the actual words to him, but it was like he could still hear the words reaching his ears as if he truly seemed like no matter where he went, what he did or what he thought about, the disturbing words refused to leave. He tried not letting it bother him too much though because if his father spoke up and asked him what was the matter, for sure Rye would interfere and things would get ugly. No, the best thing to do was sit there, eat his supper and then head straight up to bed.

As for Mr. Mellark, all three of his sons could see how obviously tense he was acting. His eyes were glued to his plate on the table and rarely did he look anywhere else but at his meal. His wife, on the other hand, was behaving coolly as if all the quarrelling that had taken place not even an hour ago was now forgotten and put in the past. She didn't bother to shift her gaze to her husband's but if she would have, she would have noticed how very much on fire his eyes still were. He didn't speak and that was because he was still too upset with all that had been said from his insensitive wife.

Halfway through the meal, Peeta felt something tickling the back of his throat. His initial thought was that he'd swallowed his meat too quickly and now it was getting lodged in his throat, but that wasn't it. As he let out a few coughs to clear his throat, he knew the reason for his throat feeling so disrupted. The emotions that were still sitting on his heart were now working to make themselves known. After taking a few small breaths, he thought he might start choking on his food but there was no fear of that. If his emotions sprang out and got free, he wouldn't be suffering from a round of choking – he'd be dealing with another round of tears.

It was then – when he was so close to letting the tears show – that his mother's comments rushed back into his mind.

" _I'll never love you the way I'd love a daughter."_

" _A daughter would have always been better than you."_

" _A daughter was what I always wanted. Having a son wasn't what I wanted."_

" _My life was ruined the day you were born."_

" _You'll never make me happy the way a daughter would have."_

" _You're the reason I was never given the family I wanted."_

" _You should never have been born."_

Joining her voice was Rye's, which sounded so much louder than he'd ever recalled it sounding.

" _Why don't you go and get yourself killed?"_

He couldn't start crying. One look to his brother and he caught Rye glaring at him suspiciously as if the guy was reading his mind. A glance to his mother showed him that she too was watching him but she wasn't doing so in a suspicious sense. The look in her eyes was one of utter annoyance and no doubt it was because having her son break down crying wasn't a sight she approved of in any way. Through the struggle, he managed to hold back from breaking down though it still felt like he might lose it at any time. His mother and brother turned their attention back to their plates when they saw he'd returned to a much calmer state. Little did they know how much pain he was secretly hiding behind that mask that disguised his intolerable suffering.

As he'd guessed, not a single word was spoken for the rest of the meal.

Crawling back into bed was always a comforting feeling. There was nothing he liked better then covering himself with the soft, thick blankets of his bed and letting his mind drift off freely. It was one of the few times where he could relax, let his mind go where it desired and let his troubles and worries fade away.

Tonight wasn't like this.

If anything, the blankets seemed to provide no warmth for him and no matter how much he turned, he wasn't feeling the least bit tired. If anything, he felt more awake than he'd felt in years. His mind was heading in a million directions but none of them were places he wanted to go. They were places he often tried to ignore, avoid and not obsess over, but how could he ignore them when they kept coming back to him? Most times he'd try and push it to the back of his mind and not worry so much about it, but how could he not? How could he not spend time thinking about it at least once every day? It wasn't something he could easily forget and though no one else knew, it crossed his mind at least three times a day – once when he woke up, once in the middle of the day and once more when he was getting ready for bed. The second he'd wake up and crawl out of bed, it would be there. When he was at school eating lunch and chatting with friends, it would be there. And when he'd crawl back into bed for the night, it would reappear once more. So often he thought about it and on that night, his mind and heart was obsessing over it more than ever. He wished there was an answer to the difficult question, but he'd been searching for years and still hadn't come across any kind of an answer.

It was a question that stuck with him every second of every day and that was: _why can't our family_ _share the kind of bond that so many others do? Why can't we love each other? Have fun? Spend time together? Be there for each other? Why can't we understand the true meaning of family?_

It was the most complicated question he'd ever been faced with. It was also the most painful and whenever he'd stop and look at families around him, his heart sank to bottomless depths. He'd see parents and children strolling through the parks on a summer's day and settling down for a picnic; heading to the store and coming out with a bag full of candy; going to movies; relaxing on the beach while letting the rays of the sun warm their bodies, and doing all the things he wished he and his family could do.

He hated revisiting this torturous place. It was a place that brought unthinkable pain and desperate longing, but he was unable to remove himself from this part of his mind. Once he stepped inside, the door would slam shut and he'd be trapped and forced to endure the endless questions that tore and ate away at his heart. Worse, it felt like the darkness of his room was only adding more fuel to the flames and the burning pain was increasing terribly. There was no stopping it. There was no use trying to distract himself or refocus his attention on something else, because it couldn't be avoided.

Tears began filling his eyes and as he let them each trickle slowly down his cheek, his mind began filling with images. A lump was forming in his throat and soon he found it difficult even to swallow and following this, a chill was spreading from the bottom of his toes to the top of his head. Every inch of his body was freezing up and an extra blanket or two wasn't going to bring the warmth back into it.

All he could think of was his family. Of the thousands of people that made up District Twelve, he doubted there was a family that was anything like his. There were families that had their daily problems of fighting, bickering, arguing and disagreeing but aside from that, they got along and could live with each other. His family was nothing of the sort and those who didn't know Peeta, his parents and two brothers would never assume they were a family, what with how they acted around one another. Anyone that saw Peeta and Rye together would believe they were the worst of enemies and wanted nothing to do with each other. As for he and his mother, others would presume they weren't even related by blood and were in no way related, and he and Luchi would be seen as strangers. It was only Peeta and his father that had a bond that not too many sons shared with their fathers, and he was eternally grateful for that. He only wished he could share a similar bond with his mother and two brothers.

The best way he could describe his family was that it was a group of individuals that lacked the single, most important factor that kept loved ones together – and that was love. Without love, how was it possible for families to bond, feel close to one another and develop the kind of relationship that kept them together through even the worst of times? Love was the glue that held families together and helped them get through the worst of hurdles, the most painful times, and the most challenging tasks. There was no denying that his family lacked this significant factor and because of it, his family had never truly been close over the years, and still weren't to that day. Where most families were involved in each other's lives, he, his parents and brothers went about their own lives separately without ever involving themselves with what others were doing.

"We're a broken family," Peeta uttered, the truth hitting him harder than ever before. His voice sounded hollow and silent in the air, and for a second he hardly recognized it as his own. But it was, and hearing how lonely it sounded, he only went on questioning his family's situation even more. Like maggots eating away at his flesh, he let the questions consume his mind.

 _Where did we go wrong?_ thought Peeta dejectedly. He glanced up at the clock on his wall and saw it was ten to twelve. Any other night he would have been asleep by ten, but he was anything but tired and feared it might be a good two or three hours more before he eventually dozed off. _Is there something we're not doing right that's made us like this?_ _Am I doing something wrong?_ _Is it my fault we're all like this and not getting along?_

Each time he came to the same conclusion, and that was no. He and his father were the only two in their family that ever tried to forge a bond between them all. Time and again they failed but never did they stop trying, even if their attempts were all but futile. They'd try and make conversation and would often suggest going to a movie, restaurant or even for a walk in the park, but were met with the same quick answer of no. No, no and no. This was the only answer that ever got shoved into their faces.

Peeta admired his father more than anyone else and was eternally grateful for all he'd done for him. And although he and his father were both aware of why Mrs. Mellark had grown to be so unpleasant, Peeta could never hold a grudge against his father's attempts to try and erase this truth. He could only imagine how troubled and overwhelmed he was truly feeling inside and so he never gave his father a hard time because he was the only one who was ever there for him. Even if he told Peeta what could be considered lies, he knew they were lies that were meant to try and find some way to simply get through each day in a harsh, cold reality. Mr. Mellark might not have known what to do with his despicable wife, but he never let his emotions run free.

He was a man that never took his anger out on others and would instead boggle it up inside and find some way to get rid of it. For every customer that walked into their bakery, he'd greet them with a smile and friendly wave and at once they'd feel welcomed, as if the place belonged just as much to them as it did to him. He was a man that was there when people needed him and would even stop to help out a stranger, where others just wouldn't have bothered. He was there to offer advice and guidance and Peeta knew this better than anyone, as he remembered when his father had been there for him when he was worried about his dilemma with Katniss and how his father's words had helped to relax him.

Peeta directed his focus from the clock on his wall to his bedroom window. His curtains were pulled to the side, allowing him to gaze out at the sky that was flooding with stars that dazzled like shining gems. For a few precious minutes, he let his mind focus only on the countless twinkling stars that lit up the sky. He could have been wrong, but as he gazed out his window and up at the shimmering stars, it seemed like there were more stars than ever on that particular night. They were stars that looked larger, brighter and more beautiful than any he'd spotted before.

As he looked from star to star, he remembered being told as a child that if you wished on a star, your wish would come true. It was something many talked about in District Twelve and was especially popular amongst children. How that was possible and if it was even true, Peeta had no idea but staring up at that sparkling sky, there was a wish that had stayed with him since he was young. For so many years he'd been longing for this one simple thing and the aching to be granted this only grew worse the older he got. Now that he was sixteen and not growing a day younger, he'd reached the point where he felt that not having this in his life made his life feel hollow and empty. The pieces that currently made up his life and everything in it were all in place but like an unfinished puzzle, there was still a section missing. It was the single, most important piece of the entire puzzle and without it, he knew his life would continue to forever feel like an uncompleted puzzle.

He couldn't take his eyes off the countless stars. It was like they were luring and tempting him to close his eyes, focus his thoughts and reveal his deepest wishes. _Is that really true though? Do wishes really come true by wishing on stars? Is it any different than wishing on candles on birthdays? I guess it doesn't really matter. There's no way to truly find out so I guess all you can do is wonder._

There was no harm in trying though. The worst that would happen would be that he'd wake up to find life was the same, his wish hadn't been granted, and that would confirm that wishing on stars did nothing at all to grant one's wish. He knew some would try it just to see if worked and if it didn't, they'd feel silly and wonder why in the world they'd even bothered. But he was so desperate for this one simple thing and not knowing any other way to receive this, he saw no reason to think of himself as ridiculous for trying. And he wasn't asking for much. Where some might have requested money and riches, attention and fame or various other things, what he wanted was the one thing every good person deserved to have in their life.

 _Even if it doesn't work_ , thought Peeta, staring intently up at the stars. As if sensing he was watching them, some seemed to shine just a little brighter, as if acknowledging him in some secret way. _At least I tried. And if this doesn't work, it just means I'll have to try and make it happen myself. I don't even know if I'll be able to, but I can't stop trying. I've been wanting it for too long._

With those thoughts in mind, he closed his eyes, took a silent breath, and whispered half to himself and half to the stars in the sky, "I wish my family could be closer, could be there for each other...and could love each other."

He imagined his mother no longer verbal or physical harm on him or treating him like trash, and getting along with her husband as opposed to screaming in his face. He pictured Rye no longer pummelling him, spitting in his face, bombarding him with insult after insult and grabbing every chance he got to ruin his day. The two would once again become best friends and the inseparable brothers they'd been when they were young. Finally, he envisioned Luchi no longer ignoring him as if he was a fly on the wall but instead, was spending time with him and treating him like a friend and brother. In his mind, it was all so crystal clear and everything he'd ever wanted but yet it felt so terribly out of reach, as if it were millions of miles away. It was so beautiful to see his family bonding and getting along and it made him sad that it couldn't have always been like this.

He thought of the Everdeens, and how different they were to his own family. It was clear Katniss and her father had been extremely close, sharing a true father and daughter relationship. He and his wife had loved each other dearly and cared greatly for their two children. Katniss and her little sister Prim were about as close as any two sisters could be, and would do anything for the other. And though Mr. Everdeen's death had taken a serious toll on his wife, it didn't affect the love she had for her daughters. Katniss might not have seemed as close to her mother and it was true they didn't talk as much, but love hadn't left them. Deep down – past the layers of anger and sorrow that had built up over the years – Katniss still loved her mother and Peeta didn't doubt for a second that she'd still be there for her years down the road.

Katniss and her family were closer than Peeta had ever been with his own family, and he'd known this for years. Sometimes, he'd get bombarded with a sense of sadness at seeing Katniss and Prim laughing and walking around at school and he'd wish he and Rye could be closer. Of all the times Katniss and her sister had been seen together at school, not once had Peeta and Rye been seen together and if they had been, it was only because Rye was in the mood to annoy and harass him.

It was imagining this family – the Mellark family he'd longed to have for as long as he could remember – that he realized how unlikely it was that his situation would change. So many times he'd tried to bring him and his loved ones closer together but each try only brought him disheartening failure. Though what he saw in his mind was wonderful, he couldn't hide from the face that was reality. It was a cruel, harsh and unfair reality, but it was reality just the same. It was staring this truth squarely in the face that all the images floating in his mind got wiped out entirely.

He rolled over on his side, got himself comfortable and was all set for sleep when his now empty mind got invaded with familiar, unpleasant images. He saw his mother shrieking, raising a rolling pin and then quick as lightning, knocking her son brutally in the face, not caring about the burning pain he would now endure. Next appeared Rye laughing louder than ever, whose laugh seemed to echo without end. Then came Luchi who as always, walked past his brother without glancing his way, greeting him with a 'hi' or stopping to ask him how his day was. It all came rushing at him like an out of control wave that crashed upon him with such overwhelming force.

He tried to block out the scenes unfolding in his head, but it was useless. He wrapped the blankets over his head but that did nothing. He stared up at the blank ceiling and still they hadn't left. For ten minutes, he rolled from side to side and all that did was prove to himself how truly bothered he was. He wasn't the least bit tired now and knew he'd be up the rest of the night. There was no questioning that. The clock on his wall would carry on tick-tock, tick-tocking, the hours would pass by dreadfully slow and he'd still be awake in bed, not even close to feeling a tad bit tired. He wanted sleep badly and wished his mind would calm down and not concern itself with problems he obviously couldn't fix.

It wouldn't though, and it didn't. It kept him up the entire night and as the images in his mind worsened, he became more awake than ever. He thought of getting slapped in the face day after day with an iron fist, getting called horrible names day after day and being ignored day after day. It was all he thought of. It wouldn't leave his mind; it refused to. They came together and screamed in his face and he was all but powerless against it.

" _I want you gone!"_ came his brother's hissing voice that was filled with such obvious hatred – hatred that was pointed directly at Peeta. _"Why don't you go and get yourself killed?"_

" _My life was ruined the day you were born! You're the reason I was never given the family I wanted!"_ came his mother's shrieking voice and it sounded like she was truly standing there hollering in his ear like the witch she was. _"And don't ever think I'd love you the same as I would a daughter."_

" _Hi Luchi."_

" _Hey..."_ and like always, that was really the only word Peeta ever managed to get out of his oldest brother. Aside from the occasional 'what's up?' it wasn't often Luchi ever said much to his youngest brother. Most days he wouldn't even say 'hi' to him and would instead go about his day in the bakery while concerning himself only with his own problems.

Halfway through the night, it got unbearable. Peeta's eyes filled with tears and no matter of wiping them clean did anything. With each tear he wiped away, another was there to take its place. A lump began forming in his throat which made it painful to swallow and every now and then, a gasping and choking sort of sound would escape him. An icy chill engulfed his body but he didn't bother close the window, because all his life he'd liked sleeping with his windows opened. So many tears filled his eyes that a small portion of his blanket was now soaked as a result of them sliding down his cheek and onto his bed. Tears turned into crying but he knew it wasn't wise to go on crying in the late hours of the night. If his mother got up to find out he was still awake and sobbing like a child, he'd be smacked so hard that he'd for sure be up the remainder of the night because he'd be coping with a stinging pain in his cheek. Catching her son weeping in the middle of the night when he should have been sleeping would have driven her insane.

But he knew there was no chance he'd stop crying anytime soon as he was now swallowed up in his own world of infinite grief. He couldn't spring himself out of it, and knew there was no point in trying. He was now locked in this place of hell. So he did the only thing he could think of to cover up the sounds of his sobbing, and that was to crawl under the covers and shove his face into his pillow. It wasn't the first time he'd cried himself to sleep and he feared it wouldn't be the last. But as he dug through his memories, he couldn't recall a time when he'd cried so hard that he felt his heart might burst out of his chest. Of all the times he'd cried himself to sleep and got lost in his tears, he couldn't remember a time where he'd felt so unloved and unwanted.

Peeta cried without stopping for the rest of the night.


	35. Chapter 35

**CHAPTER 35**

 **NOVEMBER**

The previous night had been one of the most painful that Peeta had ever endured. He'd tossed and turned the entire night, surrendering himself to the countless tears that trickled down his face. Like a movie on re-run, all he'd heard while lying in bed were the arguments between his two parents and the fiery remarks that had come from Rye. He wasn't entirely sure which was worse – remaining awake with his thoughts, or plummeting into a nightmare that would only amplify the grief he already felt.

When the following day arrived, he did his best to focus on school, but his efforts were all but in vain. It was biology class, and Mr. Boggs was discussing the anatomy of frogs. This would be followed by the hands-on portion of the lesson, which involved dissecting the organisms.

Peeta was trying hard to listen and pay attention, but the teacher's words flew in one ear and out the other.

That was when he unexpectedly felt an odd and uncomfortable feeling that someone…was watching him. More strangely, he thought he heard the unmistakable sound of someone calling his name.

Unsure of where the voice was coming from, he glanced around in confusion and realized it was no one in the room calling out to him. That was when he looked to his right and saw a sight that evaporated any hopes of trying to focus on biology. Any chance he'd had just seconds ago of focusing his thoughts on frogs were gone entirely and all but one quick look to his right was the reason for that.

There was a person – a stranger – standing outside the classroom window.

He was standing stock still as if his feet were glued to the ground and he had no way of moving. At a first glance, Peeta never recalled having seen him around school which meant only one thing, and that was that he wasn't a student of Madderson High. He was about Peeta's size and looked about the same age but his appearance was nothing like Peeta's at all. His hair was black, longish and fell nearly to his shoulders. His eyes were a greyish color like Katniss's but where hers were a more light color, his was like a black shadow. It made Peeta think of night-time and darkness and it gave him a truly horrid feeling as if those eyes could see, hear and read every thought in his head. It was like they could see right into his soul with hardly any effort. He was dressed all in black, wearing a black shirt, jeans and some kind of thick black bracelet around his arm. The guy wasn't smiling or looked like he was even a remotely happy person.

All that Peeta could determine from his face was that the guy looked... _crazy_ _._ That was the only word Peeta could use to describe the guy he was staring at. And though he wasn't sure why but as he sat staring at this guy dressed all in black, it made his blood run cold. It was one of those rare times in his life when he felt a sudden feeling of dread and he hadn't the slightest idea as to why. It was just one of those odd times where you were struck with the worst kind of feeling and it sat in the gut of your stomach like a ton of bricks.

There was something else that Peeta noticed about the guy. He was sure that this was definitely a figment of his imagination but it creeped him out all the same.

As he locked eyes with the guy outside the window, he could have sworn his eyes looked like that of a snake's. For that brief second, they appeared like slits and as he lowered his gaze to the guy's mouth, there he was met with another surprise. What he'd expected to see were his unmoving lips but what he now saw were two sharp fangs and a long forked tongue. No longer did the guy have a body of smooth, pale skin because the body that had once been his was no more. That's because he was now in the body...of a snake. It was about the normal size of that of a typical reptile with a long, thick tail that trailed on the grass behind it. It was all black with large, thick scales and as it stared in through the window and into Peeta's eyes he couldn't help but wonder if this really wasn't part of reality and that the snake wouldn't be capable of smashing its way effortlessly through the glass and slithering towards him and then sinking its fangs hungrily into his neck.

Whether the guy was really a snake or if he was quickly going insane, Peeta wasn't sure. Luckily for him, the image of the snake winked out and once more he was staring at the guy dressed all in black.

 _Who...who is that guy_? he thought in confusion, and in a bit of fear. He certainly didn't look like the kind of guy who'd make you smile or laugh or put you at east but rather, would do just the opposite. He looked like the type of person who could say whatever he wanted and no matter what words came out of his mouth, they'd either leave you speechless, scared out of your mind or so numb that you couldn't form a response to whatever it was he'd spoken.

That was when the guy gave the tiniest of a grin that was almost unnoticeable and said calmly, "Peeta." But that wasn't what got Peeta freaked out. It was when the guy put his hand casually behind his back, reached into his pocket and pulled something out. That got his mind racing. Whether it was real, a dream or just another odd vision he was experiencing in his head, Peeta wasn't sure, but this guy was truly starting to freak him out. What had first freaked him out were the eerily grey eyes but what he was now seeing was flat out making him uneasy and anxious.

" _No!_ " Peeta shouted.

Everyone in the class turned and looked at him with nothing but surprise and confusion on their faces. Mr. Boggs turned and gave Peeta a puzzled expression, but along with that he seemed a little annoyed at having had his lecture interrupted. He'd been irritated enough when Peeta hadn't gotten his cycle diagrams finished in class but having him all of a sudden start shouting out in class was beginning to tick him off. He wasn't a man that liked interruptions, especially if they were interruptions from his students who he felt should have been jotting down notes and listening closely.

"Everything all right, Peeta?" he asked sternly.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," answered Peeta, a flush of sudden embarrassment washing over him. "Just thought I heard something. Sorry..."

"Alright then," Mr. Boggs replied, keeping his eyes on his student only for a few seconds longer before returning his attention to what he'd just been discussing. "If you need to leave the room for whatever reason, please do so. I prefer to have my lessons not cut short because of sudden, unexpected interruptions."

"I will," Peeta assured him, doing his best to sound calm and not as rattled as he was feeling.

But he was anything but calm. He might have looked calm, but his mind was screaming out of control at having seen that stranger staring at him from outside the window. The guy had freaked him out for more reasons than one but what made his skin crawl was the fact that he'd been staring at nobody but him _._ It gave him the creepiest feeling that this guy had been for whatever reason...searching for him. Not once had his eyes shifted to stare in at the other students; they'd been glued only to him. But if the guy had just been a figment of his imagination, then he had nothing to worry about and could return to focusing on worms and dissections. He figured it wouldn't hurt though to have one last look just to confirm if what he'd seen had in fact been occurring in his head.

When he looked at the window again...the stranger was gone. Nowhere in sight was the guy who'd been dressed all in black but it was like he could still hear the guy's deep, flat voice and it was now hissing a phrase in his head, over and over as if on repeat. The words were clear as day and when Peeta heard them, his stomach did a flip. He couldn't understand what it meant or why he was hearing it but it made the aching in his head feel ten times worse.

The words were: Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen -The Star-Crossed Lovers from District 12.

But as he repeated the phrase over in his head, he came to the realization of who had been telling him this. It left him terribly confused and unsure as to why this guy would even be saying this but the more he went on replaying the words over in his head, the more sure he was of who had been speaking them. It was the guy outside the window and he could recognize the deep, flat voice of the stranger and it sounded even creepier now that it was in his own head.

What Peeta wasn't aware of was that it wasn't the guy outside the window saying this at all. Though he didn't know it, Gale's voice was hollering the words in Peeta's mind as if he had a single point he was trying to make, or something he was trying to make happen. He was screeching so loudly in Peeta's ears that he would have broken the guy's eardrums if not for the fact that it wasn't truly happening but rather, it was all some complicated mess unfolding in Peeta's head. The only conclusion Peeta could come to was that the guy outside that window – whether it was real or all in his head – meant trouble and he no longer wanted to stay sitting in that room. Even as far away as he was from the side window, he still didn't feel comfortable or okay with where he was sitting and he wanted out of there badly.

Peeta knew he had to get up and walk around a bit while trying to calm himself down, even if just a little. Sitting in that classroom and remembering what he'd seen outside that window was too freaky of a thing for him to ignore, so he got up out of his chair without even hesitating.

He politely excused himself and hurried off, not wanting to be there any longer. The only person he wanted to see right then was Katniss. He'd tell her what he'd seen, and she'd make everything better by reassuring him that it was only in his head. It was a thing his imagination had come up with to give him a fright. It was all just a nasty scare. It was just like all the visions and nightmares he'd had of Gale and Katniss together, and of the hawk version of Gale trying to claw his eyes out or rip his heart out of his chest. It was just a trick of his mind that had felt frighteningly real but no matter how real such things could feel they were still only a thing that had come out of his head.

 _Yeah, that's probably all that was_ , thought Peeta, feeling more and more certain of it that a nightmarish image had been all that he'd seen, and that Katniss would confirm this by telling him that was what it had indeed been.

He knew he'd most likely find her in the cafeteria sitting with Madge, Johanna, Glimmer and Clove. She was almost always there, so he decided that's where he'd go. That was the plan. He'd go to the cafeteria, talk to Katniss and she'd get rid of any fears or worries regarding what he'd seen. If only he'd known what was about to unfold there in the halls of Madderson High in just under a few short minutes, he probably never would have left biology class. He would have stayed there and _not_ gone out to wander the halls in search of Katniss. But that was all too late now. He'd made the decision to leave class and go off in search for Katniss Everdeen without knowing the hell that was about to be unleashed. If only he'd known that leaving the safety of a classroom was about the worst thing he could have done at that moment and that by doing so...he was only heading towards unspeakable danger.

He was making his way quickly through the halls. He was only a minute or so from reaching the cafeteria when the P.A. system came alive. Normally, when he heard announcements he wouldn't think much of them because they'd mostly be related to sports or upcoming events or things in general that might not have been of great importance to him, and usually they weren't. But what he soon heard made him wish that he'd stayed back in the classroom and not gone rushing out into the halls. It made him wish that he and Katniss were in one of the classrooms together and safe from the unavoidable chaos that was about to unfold. But they weren't together. Instead, they were apart and too far apart to get to each other in a few quick seconds and all Peeta wanted more than anything right then was to be with Katniss.

It was the voice of Principal Snow. Though Peeta couldn't see the guy, he could hear as plain as anything the obvious concern that was in his voice. There was panic in his words, but he was doing a remarkable job at hiding it, so as not to alarm and frighten the many students of the school. At a time like this, it was best to present yourself as calm and in control of yourself as possible because panic was like fire and even the smallest bit of panic could lead to screaming and fear, just as the tiniest spark could lead to the greatest fire. And right then, their principal was doing all he possibly could to ensure that students remained focused and knew exactly what needed to be done.

Peeta stopped moving and dropped his gaze to the floor while listening in shock as Principal Snow announced, "Attention students and staff. It is necessary at this time to begin a school wide lockdown. I repeat...a school wide lockdown. All students are to remain in class. Any students in the hallways are to enter the nearest open classroom at once. Teachers, lock your classroom doors. Ignore a fire alarm. No one, under any circumstances, is to leave the classroom until further notice."

There was one last thing the Principal added before his voice disappeared. He declared, "It has come to our attention that an unidentified gunman has entered the school and is threatening to bomb the school if any student or teacher tries to approach him. All students and staff remain hidden until help has arrived _._ Do not go near him _."_

The second Principal Snow announced they were entering a lockdown Peeta's mind went only to one place. He couldn't go to the nearest classroom. Until he knew that she was safe and out of harm's way, there was only one thing he had to do right then and that was to find her. It was as if everything else the Principal had said went in one ear and out the other. Katniss...he had to get to her. Make sure she was _safe._ It was _all_ that mattered. Nothing else mattered to him but ensuring her absolute safety. Right then, he wasn't even concerned about his own safety despite the fact that he was completely vulnerable in the halls. All he cared about was getting Katniss to safety. Where students were hurrying their way into the classrooms and finding a place to hide...Peeta wasn't. He had all but one single, overriding thing he had to make sure of before his own safety and that was Katniss's protection.

With that in mind, he turned and faster than he'd ever moved in his entire life, ran down the halls of Madderson High. As he left one hall and turned to make his way down another, all he could hear was the sound of the hundreds of footsteps of the school's students as they made their way as quickly as they could into a classroom. It didn't matter what room they went into, who was there and how many people where there. The one important thing was that they got out of the now most dangerous area of the school...and that was the hallways.

"In here, now!" one of the teachers hollered, his tone noticeably shaken. Waving his arm frantically, he motioned for them to quicken their pace. "Hurry!"

"W-where's the gunman?" asked one of the girls in increasing fear. She was clearly scared out of her mind as her eyes were flooding with tears and her entire body was undergoing a series of unremitting trembles. She was even having a difficult time stepping into the classroom as if terrified that the gunman might actually be inside and waiting to trap them all like wolves on its prey and start firing at random.

The teacher placed both hands on the girl's quivering shoulders and hurriedly led her into the classroom. He explained to her bluntly, "We don't know. But everyone's got to hide. The guy could be anywhere and all that matters is getting everyone outof the halls."

"B-but what if he...comes in the room?" she stammered worriedly, on the startling verge of surrendering to an imminent wave of tears.

"We don't know what'll happen," he responded softly. The shudder in his speech was growing more palpable, and it was evident teachers were suffering through just as much apprehension as the multitude of alarmed students.

Like a herd of petrified animals, the students couldn't move fast enough and even going as quickly as they could, it always felt as if the gunman were creeping up right behind them with the gun raised and ready to fire. The teachers made sure to get each and every student into a room and once the hallways were empty, they wasted no time in following the principal's orders. Doors were locked; windows were closed; blinds were pulled down and everyone hid as best as they could no matter where that might be, whether it was beneath cupboards, desks, tables or under windows. The only person not joining them was Peeta. His mind wasn't even on what was happening in the classrooms because all that mattered to him was getting Katniss to safety. But to do that he first had to find her and since he figured she would have spent her free in the cafeteria, that was where he was headed.

Just as he'd guessed, Peeta was right in that Katniss _had_ been spending her free with her friends. But what he hadn't known was that she'd left them to go to her locker to put her books away. It was a thing she did every day, usually around this time. And like always – once her books had been put away – she took the same route she normally did to get back to the cafeteria, and that was the longer route. When she left her locker and walked straight down the hall, she'd make a turn and find herself in a longer and even wider hallway. There were no classrooms, doors or windows in this particular hall. The walls, however, were covered in various paintings that had been done by students of Mr. Odair's classes. She liked taking this route because each time she took it, she could expect to see new and even more incredible works of art proudly up on display.

When she stopped to observe them, her eyes fell on one that made her break out in a knowing smile. It was a portrait of herself and the sketcher was none other than _Peeta_ _._ It was the first assignment they'd done in art and she remembered how bad she'd thought her portrait of Peeta had been. He, of course, had told her it was lovely and as she stood there staring at his portrait, she couldn't _wait_ to see him in art, which was her next class. She couldn't wait for the two to finally get started on the mask they were both so excited about and before she had time to think of anything else...she heard the voice of Principal Snow over the P.A. system. She listened carefully and when it hit her that they were now officially entering a lockdown, a fear like she'd never experienced came over her. It occurred to her that one false move, one false mistake...and Madderson High would be blown to bits with not a single person left standing.

She had to get to a classroom, any classroom. All she could think about right then was getting to safety and...but Peeta! It suddenly hit her that he was somewhere in the school. As to where he might have been, she had no idea but she knew that he was somewhere. She only prayed that he was in a classroom with the door locked, windows shut, blinds down and huddled in some spot where the gunman hopefully wouldn't reach him or think to look. She wished more than anything that the two could be in the same room together, so if worst came to worst and things did turn out tragic, whether that was the gunman pointing the gun at them or the school was blown into oblivion ...they would at least be _together_ _._ She feared death but what she feared even more was dying alone without Peeta to be there with her. If they were going to die, then at least if they were huddled against one another and holding one another's hand, they wouldn't be alone and could face whatever horror the gunman unleashed upon Madderson High in each other's arms.

She was seconds from hurrying down the hall to get into a classroom when she considered something else and... ** _BAM!_** A gunshot broke through the silence which meant the gunman had officially opened fire. To her immense relief it sounded like it had come from the opposite side of the school, which meant at least the shooter wasn't within range of her. That meant she still had time to get to a classroom. But if he was opening fire, did that mean students were getting _shot_? Was his plan to take down as many victims as possible before help arrived and he was dragged off? Did he not even care if he got time behind bars? Was his only goal to snatch the lives of as many innocent people as he could and bomb the entire school if anyone made so much as a move on him? With the threat of bombing the school lingering in the air, there was no way somebody would even consider stopping him. It just wasn't a chance that was worth taking...not if it meant the bombing of an entire school and the deaths of thousands.

She _had_ to get moving.

If she stayed where she was then there was a frighteningly real possibility that she'd run into the gunman while searching for safety and her life would likely flash before her eyes and then would be over almost instantly. All that was needed was one trigger of the gun and she'd get blasted into nothingness. She ignored the persistent aching in her head and the numbness in her legs as she started her way down the hall, wanting only to get to a classroom and know that Peeta would be there waiting for her.

She'd barely moved three steps before two more gunshots were fired. Unlike the first, these two were far louder and seemed of much greater power. She knew if she could hear them better than she had the first one then that meant only one thing...and that was that the gunman was getting closer to her.

But she wasn't thinking about that. Her mind and thoughts were on somebody else – and that was her _father_ _._ Years ago, he'd been gunned down by a storm of bullets and the sound of a gunshot _alone_ was enough to get her whole body shaking and make her mind feel like it was exploding in sheer fright. It didn't matter how many times the sound of a bullet reached her ears. It would always be a sound that brought nothing but grief and anguish for her.

She'd started thinking of him when the first bullet had gone off, but she'd been able to keep strong and focus only on getting to a classroom and safety. Any bit of strength she'd had was completely thrown out the window when she'd heard the shots that had been fired only a moment ago. It was like the sound of the gun had reopened a part of her memory that she hated returning to. It was a place that for years she'd tried her hardest to keep stored in the back of her mind and not let the pain of it break her apart. But the sound of the screaming bullets had brought the nightmarish memory back to life. Her head was no longer aching, but was _throbbing and her_ legs were no longer numb and instead, were paralyzed with _fear._ She noticed the lockers and walls around her were unfocused, fuzzy and unclear as if they were somehow morphing into something else. It was like her sight was giving out on her and any bit of sound that she might have heard she could no longer make out...and _that_ was because she was quickly falling apart.

She hardly realized what was happening next. All she knew was that she felt herself lying on the ground while the pain of the memory ate away at her like maggots on rotting meat. There was no way she could fight off the invasion that was happening in her mind, so she lowered her head to the ground, put her cheek on the cold, hard floor and fell into a _blackness_ that lasted all but a few seconds but felt to her like a painful and endless eternity.

She was on a lonely, murky sidewalk.

The shady, yellowish glow radiating from the streetlights above her flickered on and off. All her surroundings – the concrete buildings, street, cracked sidewalks and wooden benches – appeared to be cast in gloomy, ominous shadows. Somewhere in the distance a forgotten dog was howling urgently in hopes of its vanished owner returning. A steady, torrential rain was showering around her but the separate drops of rain felt all but invisible. It was the same with the people that passed by her; it was like they weren't even there. All she saw was the man in front of her who was on his way home after having gone out to get a few groceries. He held the two bags in his hands and walked with a smile on his face at the thought of returning home to his wife, two daughters, and even the scruffy, but amusing cat that was Buttercup.

Little did the man know that without even knowing it, he'd set out that night to stare death in the face. When Katniss turned she saw an even bigger, taller man following behind him and there was a look of sheer _evil_ in the guy's face. In his hand he grasped a gun and when Katniss called out to the doomed man, her voice was inaudible. She realized with horror that no one could hear her. Not only that, but no one could see her. She was just an unfortunate witness in this tragic event and no matter how loudly she screamed...nobody heard her. It was like she was a howling ghost in this eerie and lonely town and her efforts to call out to her father were all but futile.

"Dad!" she hollered, and ran up beside him. She tried grabbing at his arms but he only continued walking. Her attempts at getting him to notice her were all but failing and it wouldn't matter how desperate she was because of the simple fact that he could hear none of her shouting and couldn't feel the grip of her hand. She was now in tears and her throat was getting dry as she desperately tried to save her father.

"T-there's someone _behind_ you!" she sobbed, clutching onto her father's arm. But she wasn't holding the arm of her father. She was holding nothing but air and despite how many times she reached out for his arm, not once did he turn and see his daughter screaming in fear beside him. "Dad, stop! T-turn around! Please! Just turn around!"

The man was drawing nearer and with a wicked grin, he was calmly pulling out his gun. Katniss had no time to react or try again to grab onto her father and get him out of harm's way before the man was raising the gun. It was like time and everything in it had stopped when she stared, traumatized, at the weapon that was about to a take the life of the man that meant the world to her. The streetlights stopped flickering; the howling of the dog stopped, the shadows had left and even the steady fall of rain had stopped.

Then, pulling the trigger and chuckling so softly that Katniss missed it...he let loose and the bullet went _screaming_ into her father's back. The man instantly crumpled to the ground and the pain and shock of it was all too much for Katniss to handle. She had to get out of this living hell. She had to get out, get somewhere... _anywhere_ but there. It was a place of horrors and nightmares. It was the place where her father had been shot and killed in cold blood. She'd never been there to witness the event as it actually happened but she'd now been taken back to that night to watch as her father was taken from her and her soon to be devastated family.

To her relief, she _was_ pulled out of the terror, but for a second or two she was wondering if she really _had_ been. She was seeing a kind of light above her but it was so blurred and so out of focus that it could have been nothing. She could hear a voice, but she wasn't sure if the voice was real or part of the memory that she might still have been a part of. She listened carefully and was reassured to find that her hearing was untouched and unaffected after all. She then heard the voice again, though it was much louder and more frantic and that's when it struck her that it was a _guy's_ voice. She was unsure if it was a voice she was familiar with or had even heard before but as it kept on speaking, she remembered a name. Did the name belong to this guy? Or was it the name of somebody else?

That's when she noticed that somebody was runningtowards her. Whoever it was, they couldn't have been moving any faster and she wondered what with how fast they were going if they'd trip and stumble over their feet, but there was no chance of that happening. This guy had his eyes only on hers and there wasn't a chance in the world that he'd let himself stumble or falter. He couldn't...not now. Not when there was all but a single, important thing on his mind that he had to make sure got done. She wanted to make out this person, especially if it was someone she knew, but it was like her mind just wouldn't allow her.

The reason for this was because she was still thinking of her father and the bullet that had so tragically taken his life. She just couldn't escape from the agony of his death as if the pain _refused_ to quit tormenting both her mind and her heart. She'd always grown up knowing her father had gone down in a shower of bullets but never had she actually witnessed the gruesome event...until just seconds ago when her mind had cruelly brought her back to that shattering night.

" _Dad_..." she murmured, and the image of him falling to the ground flashed in her head.

She heard his cry in pain and shock and how he looked so much like a ragdoll as his body lay on the hard ground, having become lifeless and unmoving because of the many bullets that had been fired into his back. _That_ was the haunting image that would forever remain in her mind and never would it vanish or get somehow erased. Though help would arrive to see what could be done for the man...they'd soon realize that any bit of help they could provide for him would be all but useless. They'd have to accept that the man was beyond saving but what was worse was that it was Katniss who'd have to accept that her father was beyond saving and that she'd lost the man who'd kept her world together and unbroken since the day she was born. From then on, the world she once knew would become one of countless and broken pieces that she would have to do whatever she could to glue back together, not only for herself, but for Prim and her mother.

"Katniss!"

She blinked and tried making out whose voice this belonged to. Nothing right now was making sense. She felt tired, confused and all she wanted more than anything right then was to crawl into bed and fall into a peaceful sleep and forget about whatever it was that was happening. But whoever was shouting her name, it was obvious they were trying to help her. But then she recalled the gunshots she'd heard just seconds ago, the ones she'd heard before she'd been sucked into the vision of her father's murder...and she remembered. It was still mostly unclear to her but it was starting to make just a little more sense. There was something about a...a gunman. Besides President Snow having mentioned something about bombs and not to approach the guy, that was all she could recall.

"Where...where am—"

"Katniss! Come on, Katniss! Get up!"

Things were clearing up. She could see a guy's face directly in front of her and by the way he was shouting and the panicked look in his eyes, he was frightened beyond words. There was no way she could even begin to describe the sheer terror that was written all over his face. But who _was_ he? She could faintly make out the blond in his hair and how it fell in waves over his forehead. But what color were his eyes? Brown? Green. No. That's when she saw clear as anything the bright shade of blue and it was like a series of bells were going off inside her head. It was a color of blue that she'd seen before and it was then that she recalled that she'd seen these eyes more times than she could recall. Butwho was he? She tried squinting her eyes in hopes of getting a better look at him to confirm if the blond hair and blue eyes truly were familiar when...

" _Peeta_?" she said tiredly.

Peeta put his hands firmly on her shoulders and gave her a forceful shake while telling her in a frantic tone, "Katniss! It's me! You gotta get up...NOW!"

His voice was begging to scream out but doing so would have been the single worst thing to do when a person with a gun was prowling about in the empty halls. It would have revealed their whereabouts and no doubt they wouldn't have had any time to rush into the nearest classroom before the one hunting them down found them, cornered them and shot them into oblivion. There was only one thing he and Katniss could do right then and that was to keep their voices low, move quickly and pray that whoever was searching for bodies to gun down wouldn't run into them.

If the worst happened and they ran into this person with the weapon of destruction, then there were only two words that would describe their fate. Two simple words that sounded like shattered glass in his head, and that's what he and Katniss would become if they found themselves face to face with a loaded gun, and the one pointing it squarely at them.

If they ran into this gunman, then it was game over.

"But, what's...what's going—"

When Peeta spoke next, it was with a fear that she hoped she'd never again have to hear in her life. Never had she heard true fear in Peeta's voice but that was all that was in his voice right now and it sent chills down her spine. It made her to return to just a few hours ago when she would have seen the bright, joyous smile on his face and the sparkle in his eyes that told her he was undoubtedly one of the happiest guys in the world. But that wasn't going to happen because that was part of the past and right now there was no smile of joy on his face and all she saw in his eyes was dread. As she looked harder, she could have sworn that all the color had been drained out of his face as if whatever it was that was racing through his mind, it scared him to the point where he'd gone ghostly white. She could even see that he was shaking as if what he was about to say truly frightened him.

"A gunman's in the school, Katniss! We gotta get to a classroom! Now! You _gotta_ get _up_!"

She blinked again and let Peeta quickly get her up onto her feet. It was clear that she was still shaky and unstable after having been inside the hallucination of her father's death, but Peeta was right there to help her up and ensure that she got nowhere but to safety. He kept his arm tightly around her shoulder in case she felt she'd fall to the ground, but Peeta's strength was holding her steady. If there was anyone in the world that could protect her and be there if ever she needed him...it was Peeta. It was only Peeta that could give her a feeling of such safety as if he wouldn't let a thing in the world harm her.

It wasn't until she'd started hurrying down the hall that she was struck with the fear of how she'd _ever_ get by without Peeta. What would she ever do without the boy with the bread? What would she do without the boy that she'd first spoken to back when she was twelve at his family's bakery? She remembered how shy he'd been just to speak with her. But most of all, she remembered staring at the bread in his hands and the smile on his face and getting struck with the strongest sense of hope. Somehow, the bread he'd been holding and the smile he'd been wearing on his face had made her believe without a doubt that there would be hope in getting by without their father and though she couldn't explain why she had felt that...she'd felt it all the same. It was from that day on that she'd begun referring to Peeta Mellark as 'the boy with the bread.'

It hit her that losing him would be like a massive, permanent hole getting punched into her life. Who would be there to help her with all things to do with art? Who would she bake cakes and cookies with while laughing because she'd dropped an egg on the floor? Who would she help get better with math and have a smile on her face when C's were turned into B's and then eventually A's? Who would she laugh at when she mentioned math and all she got in response was a hilarious, unenthusiastic "Ugh." But above all, who would sit with her by their special place down by the lake with the smell of pine trees and the sight of wildflowers and murmur "I love you's" while admiring the view? The answer was...no one. It was running all this through her head that she understood that if anything happened to Peeta Mellark...there would never be another. No one – no matter how amazing and great of a person they might have been – could ever replace her boy with the bread.

They were almost at the end of the hall. There hadn't been any gunshots fired in the past few seconds so the two could only hope that they were out of harm's way long enough to get to a classroom. Even better, perhaps help had arrived at that very second and soon the gunman would be surrounded by an even more intimidating force than himself and then the whole alarming event would come to an end. It was all they could hope for as they drew closer to the end of the hall. It was only a few _seconds_ they needed – just a few precious secondsto get them out of the hall and into a classroom. That was all they needed to get themselves behind a locked door and into a room that offered more safety than the hall they were in right now. Just a few single seconds was all they needed.

It was a few seconds that got snatched right out of their grasp. They had been so close and yet so hopelessly far from getting to safety but their efforts were all but in vain. Even if they'd gone just a little bit faster and pumped their legs just a little harder, their efforts would _still_ have been for nothing. They'd _never_ had a chance of escaping from that lonely hall because waiting for them around the corner and at the end was _what_ they'd been running from since the moment they heard the first gunshot get fired.

They weren't aware of this till they were just reaching the end and then...he showed himself.


	36. Chapter 36

**CHAPTER 36**

 **NOVEMBER**

It took Peeta all of one second to realize that he knew this guy. He might not have known him personally but he'd seen him only minutes ago. He was the kind of person it was almost impossible to forget and let slip out of your mind. Peeta had met a lot of people in his life but of everyone he'd met, the person staring at him right then was one he'd always remember, even if he didn't want to.

He was the guy dressed all in black who he'd seen standing stock-still outside the window in his biology class. He'd looked creepy then, but seeing him standing there in the flesh in front of the two of them was downright chilling. That was the only word he could think of to describe him. He was still dressed in black but unlike before, he was also wearing a long black coat that completely covered his shirt and torn jeans. His eyes still had the crazed, sinister look of a madman and when Peeta's eyes met the gunman's, he swore his heart skipped a beat. Little did he know that this was just the kind of effect the stranger could have on those who stumbled across him. He had all but to look people in the eyes and they'd feel like their head was throbbing, or they were losing their voice or that the world itself was spinning and they were left feeling shaky, dizzy and more than a bit nauseous.

What he also realized was that seeing this guy hadn't been a trick of his mind at all. It had been real, and the guy was now standing in front of Peeta and Katniss with a gun at his side. At his side was a weapon that could do a lot more damage and destruction than Peeta would have liked to have had to accept, but there was no getting around the disturbing and unavoidable truth that this guy indeed had a gun. Worse, judging by how many shots had been fired throughout the school, there was no denying that he wasn't afraid to use it.

Without even thinking, Peeta took Katniss by the hand and both cautiously and silently started pulling her back. He knew there was no escaping this armed gunman but the only thought crossing his mind right then was protecting Katniss. He wasn't even thinking about himself or anything else...only that she _had_ to be kept safe. That was all that mattered. He'd provide her with whatever protection he could – even if that meant offering her himself as a means of protection. As long as she was kept safe from the waiting gun in the guy's hands, then he could let his mind fall into a state of peace at knowing that he'd succeeded in protecting her. He could fall into a state of comfort at knowing that he'd prevented anyone from harming or laying a finger on her.

"Where ya goin'?" the guy asked calmly. He didn't move, follow them or even raise his gun to open fire. He simply stood there with his arms at his sides and an eerie smile on his face. "Got nowhere to hide."

"T-the police are c-coming," Katniss stammered, barely getting the words out. "They're gonna b-be here any—"

"Minute?" the guy asked, finishing her sentence. He then laughed and shot back coldly, "You think I give a _fuck_?"

It was clear this was a guy who wasn't worried the slightest bit about getting caught. It was all too obvious that this was a guy who went out searching for trouble and concerned himself only with whatever task he had in mind. He didn't fret about the police snatching a hold of him because the only thing he put all his attention on was achieving what he'd set out to do. Things like the police just weren't a threat to a guy like him and the two were already starting to realize that.

Peeta stared at the guy with widened eyes. He kept glancing between the guy's glaring eyes and the gun grasped in his hand. It was like his mind had gone blank and he was having trouble making sense of what was happening. The whole thing felt completely and utterly like a nightmare. But unlike all the nightmares he'd encountered over the past month none of them could even begin to compare to what he was experiencing right then. All the fear and panic he'd ever been struck with even in his most startling dreams couldn't match what he feeling while standing there with Katniss behind him and the gunman only a few feet in front of him. There wasn't much he could register, only that it felt like he was struggling just to make out who he was, where he was and what was unfolding around him.

And just like the gunman was so easily able to do with those that found themselves trapped in his presence, Peeta suddenly found himself feeling dizzy and lightheaded. He feared that if he went on staring at the gun for even a few seconds longer he might actually black out but no matter how much pounding was going on inside his mind, there wasn't a chance in the world that he'd let that happen. If he passed out and went unconscious, then who'd be there to protect Katniss? Who would be there to ensure that this madman didn't fire a single bullet into her body? The answer was no one and he knew that if there were any hopes of keeping her safe, then he had to ignore whatever light-headedness that was consuming his head and focus only on remaining in front of her.

"Y-you're not _really_ gonna bomb the school," Katniss said, her voice cracking, and the gunman could sense the sheer terror in her voice and it was all but amusing to him. For a sick and twisted guy like himself, it was all but hilarious to him knowing the fear he could inflict on those that were unfortunate enough to land in his sights. It gave him a power that no sane, ordinary person could ever make sense of. People only say that so everyone will—"

"Oh, really?" the guy interrupted with an amused, arrogant smirk. "You think so?"

He spread his arms out on either side of him and it was unmistakable what he'd cleverly placed in the pockets of his black jacket – bombs. They were small in size and round-shaped but there was no doubt in Katniss's mind that they'd be of enough force to bring down the entire school and leave it in ashes while blasting every person inside it to bits. From where she was standing, she guessed there were close to ten bombs and as she looked from one explosive to the next, she almost stopped breathing entirely. It was like she was forgetting how to breathe because the image in front of her seemed too unspeakable to be real.

"Still think I'm _bluffing_?"

Peeta took a nervous breath and asked shakily, "W-what do want? Money? Because I can give you that! A-anything you want, I'll give you! Just t-tell us what you want."

The response he got from Titus wasn't what he or Katniss wanted to hear. Before giving his answer, however, the gunman opened his mouth and let out a laugh but it was unlike any laugh either had ever heard. The instant they heard the disturbing sound, both knew this wasn't a laugh that belonged to just anyone and that was because it was a maniac's laugh. From every room in the school, students and teachers were met with the sound of this sinister laugh, and so many feared their lives would soon be over. This echoing laugh seemed to be coming from all directions and those hiding in fear could think of only a single thing, and that was that the gunman would soon be upon them.

Unable to stop from snickering, Titus replied evenly, "I don't want your money." His victim had no idea how truly hopeless it was to try and bargain with a guy that had a one-track mind, with a guy that obsessed over only a single thing in life. He wasn't aware that while money meant everything to so many others, it meant nothing to this person.

"W-what do you want?" said Peeta, and an abrupt shiver swept over his body.

"You," was the gunman's unnerving response, and he was now staring intently at the guy opposite him. Not once did his eyes blink, nor did his body move even the slightest, and that was because it was now locked in place. He was now exactly where he needed to be...and so was Peeta.

Peeta just stared at the guy with his mouth open in fear and confusion. He hadn't been aware of it, but in those few long seconds his heart had started to beat faster as if it sensed what was coming. The guy laughed as if the whole thing were all but comical for him, and then raised his gun. It appeared there was more going on in this guy's head than Peeta had wanted to believe and he feared that he and Katniss had landed themselves dead center in the harsh, tragic position where there was no chance of dodging his unremitting lunacy. That was when it struck Peeta that if the police didn't arrive in time, then whatever it was this gunman had in mind...there would be absolutely no way of stopping it. Whatever sick, abysmal plan it was he'd taken the time to so meticulously map out, there wouldn't be a single person that would be able to prevent it from occurring.

"In front of her...now," was all he said, keeping his gun directly on Peeta.

"W-wait, just think this over f-first—" Peeta desperately implored, but with a grim feeling that whatever he said from this point on would accomplish nothing.

"I'm not here to fuck around!" he snapped impatiently while clenching his teeth. "Just get the hell in front of her!"

Dumbfounded, Peeta opened his mouth and uttered nervously, "You don't w-want to do this."

His words would go in one ear and out the other for the gunman. He knew the second the words escaped his mouth that the odds of this guy actually considering what he had to say would mean all but nothing to him. He didn't care what Peeta or Katniss had to say and any efforts they had of attempting to escape the alarming dilemma they were now in would be seen as all but pathetic to him.

"NOW!" the guy hissed, and once more chills like he'd never known existed were slithering down Peeta's back. "You want that chick to live? You want me to shoot her goddam brain out of her head? Then do what I say and fuckin' move!"

Peeta quickly got in front of Katniss and without hesitating for even a second, took hold of her other hand and held it tightly in his own. He could feel the quiver in both of her hands as she did all she could to stay calm and under control but she was _anything_ but and all she could think was that the world she'd once known was about to crash down upon her. Her eyes never left the gun that was pointed directly at them and soon she found it was hard even to breathe. Though she wasn't, she felt like she was trapped underwater and was fighting with all the strength that was in her to reach the surface, but no amount of struggling was going to help. Just as she'd be unable to reach the surface and fill her lungs with fresh mouthfuls of air, she'd be just as unable to fall out of this gunman's sight and miraculously escape from the gun in his hand. The most she could do was take deep breaths and try not to let her body go limp as she fought to keep standing despite the fact that her legs felt like jelly.

Peeta took a breath that felt all but painful and asked in a trembling voice, "W-what's this all about?"

"I'm here for you, Peeta," the guy told him bluntly. Not a trace of compassion or any other sort of emotion was evident in his callous voice. "I don't give a shit about that girl behind you or even about this whole fuckin' school they call Madderson High. Those aren't important. All I care about is you."

"W-what?" was all he could get out, not even realizing his throat was going unnaturally dry.

His voice was now in a frightened whisper and he feared his heart might leap out of his chest if it pumped any faster. Things were happening too fast and the words were coming out of the gunman's mouth so quickly that he barely had time to make sense of them or what it all meant. All he understood was that the cunning look in this guy's eyes combined with the gun in his hand was starting to make him fear what just might be about to happen. Considering that his heart was now beating near out of control, his head felt like it would explode and his entire body felt like it was shuddering...he could only guess that his fears might in fact be true.

"I'm not here to cause a massacre," he explained, staring straight into Peeta's eyes. "I'm only here for one person and that person...is you." Not once did his glaring eyes blink, nor did his body shift even the slightest. His attention was only on Peeta Mellark. Everything else – the school, the students, the teachers and Katniss – were all irrelevant and of no importance to him.

What the gunman then said was so unbearably painful that Peeta felt like his entire life was flashing before his eyes and there wasn't a single thing he could do about it. It felt like the walls of the school were slowly but rapidly closing in on him and soon he'd be all but crushed. He felt as if he and the gunman were now the only two people in the school and that any chance of him reaching safety was practically impossible.

"I'm here to _kill_ you, Peeta!" the guy snarled with a malevolent, formidable grin. "I don't give a fuck about this stupid, no-good school. I'm only here for you. You move and you both die. If she tries to move, then it's the same thing: you both go down. And if either one of you moves then not only that, but this whole fuckin' school gets blown into nothing. And don't think you're gonna get help because I've got this window behind me, so the second I look back and see the police...I pull the trigger. There's no getting out of this. You've got nowhere to run...and no place to hide. Only two things can happen. Either you'll stay right where you are and wait for the bullet or you'll move and I'll have to shoot down that girl behind you and blow up this entire place." He wriggled his brows cunningly and in an unnervingly relaxed tone, asked, "So what's it gonna be? The death of one or the death of thousands? Your choice. Think fast though. Help's on the way...not that it's gonna do you any good."

An eerie thing then happened.

As Peeta stood there staring into the soulless depths of the gunman's eyes, he felt an icy, unnatural chill sweeping over him. Though there was no emotion in the eyes of Titus, there was something else he was observing and it only made him feel ten times colder; it was like blocks of frozen ice were settling on every inch of his body. The blood and warmth that normally flowed through his veins was draining and replacing it was an extreme iciness. What he saw made his knees go weak, his heart beat faster and his mind go numb. Even more disturbing was that he found he was unable to shut his eyes or avert his gaze somewhere else. The only place he could focus on was what he was perceiving through Titus's eyes, and it was a sight that both looked and felt like death itself. Whether Titus was using some invisible, unknown force to keep his victim's eyes locked on his own, Peeta wasn't sure. Whatever the case, it made no difference because as he went on staring into this killer's eyes, only one thing became dreadfully clear.

All but a single person was meant to see the horrific images in the gunman's eyes – and that person was Peeta.

What he was then shown – a sight beyond horrible and so unforgettable – made his throat swell up to the point where he feared he'd never be able to utter another word again.

Titus brought him to the entrance of Madderson High. But as Peeta immediately realized, this wasn't the school he had looked upon so many times, and that was because it was no more. All that was left of the place was a few sad remains and what had once been a school now appeared more like a world of ruins. As Peeta's eyes scanned from left to right in search of something familiar, he came up empty. Classrooms were no longer visible, hallways had been obliterated and the roof had been destroyed entirely. The art room that had become a second home to him was gone, as was the math room where he'd sat with Cato and Marvel, and gone too was the room where he'd listened to Mr. Boggs go on about all things biology.

Everything that made Madderson High the school it was...was gone.

Titus had stayed true to his word and what Peeta's eyes were seeing was all the proof he needed. His school was no more and that meant the gunman had indeed set off the bombs that had caused a massive explosion that had resulted in the devastation of Madderson High. Though the annihilation of a school was terrible, there was a sight much worse that hadn't yet been exposed to Peeta's eyes. All he was currently taking in was the overwhelming image of his demolished school, but the worst of the nightmare was about to make itself known.

Wasting no time, Titus then forced Peeta to make his way up to the entrance doors. Peeta had no control whatsoever over what his body was now doing and he knew all too well that Titus was the reason for this. He was nothing less than a puppet on strings and the gunman was in complete control of the show.

A few seconds later Peeta had walked up to the doors and before he could reach out to open them, both doors unexpectedly began opening. With the grim feeling that the true horror was waiting inside, he was advancing into the school and he was finally shown the tragedy that Titus had warned him of.

Upon first entering, he was met with the familiar, comforting sight of Madderson High prior to it having been blown to bits. Everything was back in place – the floor, halls, classrooms, roof and the thousands of students that went about their day – and he felt his mind relaxing slightly. He was no longer staring ahead at a scene of rubble and wreckage but rather, the calming, welcoming image of his old school.

This familiar image, however, was wiped out within seconds.

As Peeta turned the corner to head down one of the halls, he stopped short. Standing at the end of the hall was Titus and like always, he was standing stock still with his arms at his side. He wore a small grin on his face and just when Peeta was about to head the other way, he found his feet were glued to the floor. There was no way for him to escape what it was this gunman had in mind.

Still wearing a wicked grin on his face, Titus then raised both his arms and what Peeta saw made him want to faint. In the pockets of the black coat Titus was wearing were a number of small, round-shaped bombs. It wasn't till the maniac reached down, took one of the bombs and raised it high over his head for Peeta to see that he understood the true depths of the gunman's disturbing and haunting behaviour. He was a character that cared only about causing trouble, creating mayhem and doing all he could to scare the living wits out of anyone he crossed paths with.

Peeta's eyes were locked on the bombs. His eyes refused to glance away or look anywhere else but at the small devices that would bring about the end of Madderson High and everyone in it. Revealing the bombs had officially made Titus a person of death and as he'd said in his warning, these explosives were all set to give rise to immense destruction.

A few seconds was all it took.

Once Titus set off the bombs that carried death, it took all but a few simple seconds for hell to break loose. The bombs exploded; the world turned bleak and dark; a vast smoke filled the air that crept right into Peeta's throat, causing him to cough and gasp for air and the deafening screams of his fellow students left him trembling. That was the worst of all – the terrified screams of thousands of vulnerable, doomed students. Chills were sent up his spine as he realized that thousands of people around him were meeting their ends. There was no way out, no escape or no door that could lead them to safety.

Titus was a brutal killer who gave no protection for his victims. His single and only aim was to bring death, cause panic and produce the lasting, undying fear that he could so effortlessly pull off. By setting off his bombs, he had done exactly that.

It felt like a lifetime before the smoke was thinning and Peeta could see past the billowing cloud of blackness. A moment or so was all it took but when Peeta opened his eyes to see what Titus had achieved, he wished the world of smoke world swallow him up. No longer did he want to remain standing there while staring ahead with the feeling that his body was now frozen. He would have wanted to be anywhere but there, but the gunman Titus wouldn't allow it. The one responsible for setting off the bombs and creating chaos might have been dead, but he was still in control of what Peeta heard with his ears, saw with his eyes and felt in his heart.

What he saw in front of him and all around him...was death. It made no difference where he looked because it was everywhere. In front of him and scattered about like ragdolls were the bodies of his fellow students. Splattered across the floor was their blood and it wasn't till he turned and focused on the hall to his right that his fears were confirmed.

There wasn't a single survivor. Of the few thousand students that made up Madderson High, there wasn't a single person that had survived the deadly explosion. Their bodies were now cold, unmoving and still. As Peeta looked from person to person, he was met with the same frightening sight of their unblinking eyes staring lifelessly up at nothing. Only a minute ago these people had been up and about, chatting and laughing with friends while going from class to class. He felt if he went on staring at this tragic scene any longer, he'd collapse to the ground because of how numb his body had become.

But Titus wasn't finished with Peeta just yet.

Peeta was then transported to the opposite end of the school. He was dropped in front of a closed door and when he glanced up at the top of the door, his heart sank. C4 was the room he was standing in front of and it was the room where he and Katniss had officially begun talking. It was the place that had begun to feel like a home to Peeta and without having to open the door, he knew already what he would find inside.

Like with the entrance doors leading into the school, the door to room C4 slowly began opening and all Peeta wanted was to vanish. He'd rather have termites digging into his flesh than have to enter this room and be shown more of the horror that Titus had unleashed on so many lives. But as Peeta knew all too well, he was only a puppet on strings and the one leading the show was Titus. He took a shaky, unsteady breath to prepare himself for what he was about to see beyond this door, but knew it would be useless. He knew already what his eyes would be shown, but what he wasn't aware of was how truly horrendous of a sight he'd be forced to look upon.

At last the door to room C4 opened, his feet took a few steps forward...and he nearly blacked out right then and there.

He and Katniss had been in the middle of the hall when they'd encountered the gunman, but what he was now staring at made no sense. The two were supposed to be in that hallway but what his eyes were telling him something different. How it could have happened, he wasn't sure of. But he knew the vision was coming from Titus and because it belonged to him, he was in control of what Peeta saw and how he saw things. There was no doubt he had taken himself and Katniss, moved them from that hallway and dumped them off in room C4. The reason he felt like passing out wasn't so much because he and Katniss were now in this part of the school.

It was because he and Katniss were both on the floor covered in blood. They were on their backs with their arms at their sides and their mouths half open while their eyes stared blankly up at the ceiling. No expression was on their faces and from where he stood, Peeta could see that their faces were splattered with their own blood. In a short amount of time, he and the girl he loved had become victims and eventually corpses in the sick event Titus had devised. Along with the many other people in the room that had been struck by the extreme explosion, he and Katniss had been just as doomed for a tragic fate.

He couldn't believe it. Both his heart and his mind refused to believe what his eyes were telling him. Katniss Everdeen couldn't be dead. Less than half an hour later and the two would have been sitting together at the back of the room like they always did, sketching and laughing over some goofy joke he would have come up with. It would have been a day just like any other. But Titus had slithered his way into their school all but unnoticed and had cast a shadow of darkness over the two, along with hundreds of others.

Peeta felt his knees going weak. It was like the circulation had stopped and it was impossible to remain standing, though he was somehow able to keep on his feet. With the small bit of strength that was left in him, he hobbled his way over to Katniss and was dangerously close to falling on his face. A few more steps and he was now staring down at the fallen body of his lover – of the girl that meant the world and more to him.

He shook his head, not believing the sight in front of him and croaked out, "Katniss?" He kneeled down, touched her cheek gently with his hand and at once tears began filling his eyes. When he lifted his hand, it came as no surprise to him when he saw what was dripping from his quivering fingers – blood.

Letting a tear dribble down his cheek, he put both his hands on Katniss's shoulders and screamed frenetically, "Come on, Katniss! Wake up!"

He gave her a forceful shake but she remained just as still and motionless. When he put his hand where he should have felt her heart beating, he was met with nothing but silence. It was the same when he felt her neck for a pulse – nothing. Her heart had given out just moments after the series of bombs had exploded and because of that, never would her now sleeping heart beat again; it had entered a state of eternal, never-ending sleep.

"No," he cried, letting the tears slide down his cheeks. He gave a shaky breath, swallowed and snivelled, "Not you." He dropped his head and wished more than anything that the walls of the room would close in on him and would take him out of this miserable place. He had now reached the point where the pain consuming him was all but crushing, and all he could whisper to his dead lover was, "I-I'm sorry, Katniss. I didn't mean for this to happen. None of this was supposed to happen."

He rose to his feet and though he was unsteady, he managed to stay on his feet and slowly make his way over to the door. Each time he walked by one of the bodies of his fellow students it felt like knives were slashing at his body, as if he was the enemy and the only one person to blame for their deaths. When he at last reached the door, he shifted his gaze from the floor and back to the room that had once been filled with such life, enjoyment and laughter. It was now a place filled only of death, silence and misery.

It was all too clear now what had to be done. After having seen what Titus had achieved at Madderson High, it was perfectly clear. He had only to glance around one last time at his fallen classmates to see in his mind and heart what had to be done.

Once more, he said in a rattled but firm voice, "I'm sorry, Katniss." He then proclaimed to the many students whose lives had been stolen, "I'm sorry."

Before turning and departing room C4, he declared to himself quietly, "It has to be done." Despite that Titus was nowhere in sight, Peeta could feel the gunman's eyes directly on him and knew that he was watching, observing and listening to his every word.

Then, the world began spinning. The walls came crashing down, there was a sound of screaming and everything grew black and ominous. A foul smell lingered in the air and just when Peeta was wondering if he'd make it out in time...a blinding light flashed in front of him and he was shoved out of the horror and back into reality.

The petrifying vision Titus had shown to Peeta had lasted all but a few simple seconds. It was now over and Peeta was once again standing in front of Katniss with Titus blocking off any chance they had of escape. He had left the hell in his mind to re-enter the hell that was reality.

Tears were streaming down Katniss's face. Once more her head was throbbing, her arms and legs were now past the point of feeling numb and the whole scene felt like it was blurry and hazy. The only thing that remained clear as day was the gun that was still in the guy's hand. It wasn't going to leave his hand because he was there to make sure one thing happened and that was the death of the person that meant absolutely everythingto her – Peeta Mellark. He was there to end the life of the boy she'd grown to love, admire and care for and now she was hit with the excruciating fear that his life would soon tragically be coming to an end.

" _Why_ are you doingthis?" she blubbered, letting the tears pour down her face like desolate rivers.

It was a struggle to even speak now but somehow, with the greatest of difficulty, she was able to get the words out of her mouth. It felt like knives were cutting into her throat but still she was able to speak, even if her throat did feel like it was getting slashed at and every cut felt one painful step closer to death and one intolerable step closer to losing her Peeta.

" _Why_ isn't important," the guy stated with a careless shrug, glancing fervently between Peeta and Katniss.

His eyes were on them as if he were a ruling predator and they were all but his doomed and defenceless prey. They weren't going anywhere and the gunman knew it all too well. They were trapped and caged in a _fate_ that would not be denied. It was a fate he'd already known would go just as he'd planned and because the help they so desperately needed hadn't arrived yet...it was indeed about to go just as he'd hoped.

Katniss tightened her grip on Peeta's hand, brought her other hand up to his neck as she told him in a choking voice, "P-Peeta, we have to move. We can't let—"

"No," he whispered, and by the tone in his voice Katniss knew instantly that Peeta had realized seconds ago how truly hopeless their dilemma was. He'd known it the moment the guy raised the gun on him. She hadn't wanted to accept what could happen but he knew it couldn't be ignored. There was no getting around what had to happen. "Katniss, we can't."

"Peeta, you _can't_ let him!" she hollered, and the tears just kept on coming. She was near screaming now but she had to get Peeta thinking properly. She had to get through to him. She did all she could to get out of his grasp but his hands were holding her too tightly for that. No matter how much she squirmed or resisted, he would not let go of the death grip he had on her trembling hands.

"Don't you dare try and move, Katniss!" he insisted shakily, but sombrely, and she could tell by the tremble in his voice that he was dangerously close to crying, and was fighting just to keep it together. Tears poured out of his eyes as he told her in a quivering voice, "Don't you _dare_ try and move."

He turned his head and the look he gave her made her want to crawl in a hole...and _die_ _._ She wanted to find some lonely hall and bury herself into it and never have to face the cruel, horrid world again. What she wanted so badly was for this whole unbearable thing to end so she and Peeta could go and do what they would have done if not for the sudden lockdown – and that was go to art class. They would have gotten started on the mask they'd planned on working on together, but there'd be no chance of that happening now.

"Think of everyone else," said Peeta quietly, but he couldn't hold back his tears. He was now on the verge of crying and the anguish in his voice was all Katniss could decipher as he revealed to her how there was _no_ possible way around what _had_ to be done. "Our friends: Madge, Johanna, Glimmer, Clove, Cato, Marvel. They'll _all_ be dead. And what about Gale, Katniss? He's your best friend. They'll...they'll all be dead." _And Rye. I can't let that monster take him...or anyone._

He then titled his face close to hers and stared gravely into her clouded, mournful eyes. In a choking voice, he murmured, "Your _family_ , Katniss. Who'll be there to watch over them? They _need_ you. Your mother and sister _both_ need you. You haveto stay with them."

"No!" she argued, not letting go of his hand. He felt her give it a frenzied squeeze, and she was clutching it so strongly she half expected to break bones. "I'm not _leaving_ you! I'm _not_ letting you do this! Why can't it just be me? Just let me do this and—"

He tightened his grip on her hand and told her in a soft, choking voice, "Because I don't want you forgetting how differentour circumstances you die, and I live, there's no life for me at all here in District Twelve. You're my whole life. I would never be happy again."

Katniss opened her mouth to object, but Peeta slowly turned around and put a finger gently to her lips. The sadness and realization of what was about to happen was all too discernible in his eyes. When she gazed into them, it felt like it was consuming her and in seconds she'd be a prisoner to the unendurable pain that she was now encountering.

"It's different for you," explained Peeta, his voice still so hushed but as she listened, Katniss noticed the quiver was progressively vanishing. "I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard. But there are other people who'd make your life worth living."

In that one instant, Katniss thought of her family – her little sister Prim and her struggling mother. How would the two carry on without her? How would Prim remain strong for her crushed mother when her big sister was no longer there in her life? And Gale? How would he manage to get by without his best friend in his life, the friend he'd known for years? For that short moment, Katniss allowed herself to think about Prim, her mother and Gale but just as quickly her thoughts went straight back to Peeta.

"Your family needs you Katniss," affirmed Peeta, and then in an inaudible voice that she could barely hear, he told her, "No one really needs me."

There was no self-pity in his voice and as Katniss rolled the words around in her head, she realized that what he had said was true. Yes, his family would mourn him and feel upset over his passing but they would get on. It would be the same with his friends at school; they'd miss him and talk about him every now and then but they'd find the strength to move on. It wasn't until she returned her thoughts back to herself and the situation at hand that she understood something all too clearly. It was then that she realized that only oneperson would be damaged beyond repair if Peeta died and that would be her.

"I do," she snivelled, and felt that she'd reached the inexorable point where she'd let the anguish destroy her. "I need you."

"Oh...so tragic," was all the gunman remarked, and burst out laughing.

For Titus, hearing the innocent suffer through so much fear and agony was disturbingly enjoyable. Rewarding even. To hear the quiver in one's voice, to watch the tears stream down one's face and to watch one's body tremble and shudder...were all but amusing to him. So easily he could have pulled the trigger already but he was a guy that liked intensifying panic and what better way to do that than to make use of all the time he had? Why bring an end to one's life without first hammering them with as much panic, grief and fear as possible?

Peeta didn't respond to this. He only pressed his head against hers and gave her a soft, quick kiss that felt like it lasted for an eternity. He then whispered, "I love you Katniss Everdeen. I love you so, so much..."

He then turned his head and looked back to the gunman.

The guy was watching Peeta with such an intense, unblinking stare that Katniss wanted to block the image out of her sight and pretend that it had never been there. It was then that something strange happened that left her all but confused. Peeta's hand was no longer quivering and the fear in his eyes had transformed into a sort of _calmness_ _._ His body was still and his breathing wasn't coming in quick, short gasps like hers were but rather, it was normal. It was both terrifying and unexplainable and made her wonder what thoughts were racing through Peeta Mellark's mind at that very second. What was he thinking? Feeling? Was knowing that he could save the girl he loved enough to put his body in a state of calmness? Or was there even a chance that he was _recognizing_ the inevitable?

The gunman then gave a last menacing grin before declaring, "Looks like you really are the star-crossed lovers of District Twelve."

" _NO_!" Katniss begged, now drowning in a sea of uncontainable hysteria. " _Please_ , don't!" In a grief-stricken, whimpering voice, she pleaded in distraught, "Don't do this! You can't!"

The guy smirked and shot back with ruthless indifference, "I can...and I'm going to."

She couldn't have been hit with any harsher of words. Hearing them, all she could do was shake her head vigorously in denial and go on imploring he not carry through with this. She could feel the desperation leaving her heart and creeping into her voice as she went on beseeching he leave them in peace. Between tears of pain and tremulous cries, she did all she could to change this guy's merciless, crazed way of thinking. It took less than a second to realize her efforts were achieving nothing. What with the permanent sneer on the lunatic's face, the raised gun and body that was still as stone, it was like she was attempting to speak with a person of another language. This wasn't the case but with the despairing silence she was receiving from the guy in front of that window, she might have believed in some other scenario that he spoke not a word of English.

Even through the rapid deterioration of hope and distressing fear of the inevitable though...still she carried on begging for a change of heart.

But no amount of begging was going to stop the gunman from what he had set out to achieve in doing. He had one thing and one thing only on his sick and twisted mind and that was to ensure the _death_ of Peeta Mellark. Katniss couldn't stand there any longer and let this happen so she grabbed Peeta's shoulders as firmly as she could and tried moving him to the side. She _couldn't_ let this happen. But it came as no surprise to her when he budged not even a little; it was like he was made entirely of stone and moving him was practically impossible. He was too strong for her and even if he wasn't, there was no way he was leaving her vulnerable and out in the open to get shot at. All that mattered to him was keeping the girl he loved more than anything in the world... _alive._

Katniss struggled against him and in a final desperate attempt that truly was her last chance at getting through to him, she screamed, " _Peeta_ _..._ ** _DON'T!_** "

Though her voice sounded like rumbling thunder that had crept into his ears, Peeta didn't argue or say a word in return. He simply kept standing where he was and closed his eyes while letting a smiling image of Katniss Everdeen consume his mind. Like he'd seen so many times, he saw the deep grey in her eyes that he'd gotten lost in more than once. They were the only eyes he could gaze into time and again and always feel like his troubles were washing away. He pictured her sitting in art class next to him in the same seat in the back row where they sat every day. He saw her raising the brush in her hand and then carefully lowering it to the blank page in front of her and in seconds, she was painting what would soon become a work of beauty and art. Seeing her comforting, beautiful smile in his mind...he was now at peace.

One final glance at the window behind him and Titus could see the approaching police cars in the distance. Though they were well on their way, they would in no way arrive in time to prevent what Titus had set out to achieve. He knew it made no difference how many officers showed up or how quickly they got there because no matter how fast they were moving...it would never be fast enough.

"Time's run out..." was all the gunman said, and both corners of his lips curved upward to form an unforgettably disquieting grin.

Peeta's eyes remained closed and still the image of Katniss smiling hadn't winked out of his mind.

With the gun raised and aimed directly at Peeta, Titus shifted his finger just slightly so it was now resting firmly on the weapon's trigger and then...he pulled the trigger.

Time slowed down.

It was like the hands on the clock had stopped moving and in the next few seconds that followed... _tragedy_ had been born. But prior to that, what Katniss saw like a film playing in her head were images of her and Peeta that detailed all the time they'd spent together – their first day in art class where they sketched portraits of one another; creating paintings of a mockingjay pin and three cupcakes; having lunch in the cafeteria while discussing their plans for the future; sitting down by the lake while confessing their love for each other and then sharing their first kiss; having dinner, sharing a romantic dance and then baking a chocolate cake for dessert while studying for an algebra test; playing Truth or Dare at Glimmer's party; being introduced to his friend Delly Cartwright after she'd falsely accused him of cheating on her, and eating freshly-made cheese buns down by their special place that was the lake. It all flashed by in less than a second. One single second was all it took to replay the events that had brought them together over in her head. In one second she'd went all the way back to their first day of art class, all the way up to where they were now which was staring tragedy right in the face.

The only thing Katniss remembered after that was still sobbing for Peeta to move but it was all useless because it was at that moment that the gunman pulled the trigger...and the bullet went _screaming_ into Peeta's chest. What filled the air was a sharp, piercing sound that ended as quickly as it began, but though it lasted for only a few fleeting seconds...it was eternity for Katniss and an even longer lifetime for the boy standing in front of her – the boy who was acting as shield for her.

It all happened so quickly and all Peeta could make sense of was that it felt like a bomb had went off in his chest. What he'd just been struck with such an intense and staggering feeling that no words could even begin to explain the pain that was now burning like wildfire inside him. How could one describe what it was like to have a bullet that felt more like a hundred knives – all impossibly sharp and jagged – lodged in their body? How could one describe what it was like to fear that the body itself would soon be destroyed?

How could one describe excruciating pain?

The impact of the force sent Peeta sprawling onto his back and that was when it hit Katniss that the thing she'd feared more than anything else was about to happen – she was about to lose the boy with the bread. Her world was about to crumble, fall apart and there wasn't a thing out there that was going to put it back together. She'd be a shattered vase and not one single person would be capable of putting her broken pieces together again because she'd be a forever broken person. Just like her mother who had fallen apart after the death of her husband, all Katniss could think was that she about to endure and suffer that same damaging breakdown.

The whole event had unfolded in all but a few minutes. In only a few minutes the gunman had succeeded in shooting his target and the absolute worst thing about the whole situation was that the police _hadn't_ arrived in time. If they'd arrived just a few minutes earlier or even a minute then the shooting of Peeta Mellark might have possibly been prevented. It was something that would stay locked in Katniss's mind forever – the haunting fact that help had come too late. She'd been secretly hoping the moment she first heard the school was entering a lockdown that help would come in time to stop the gunman but the painful truth was that they'd arrived all but too late to stop the shooter. She and Peeta's only hope at getting pulled out of the clutches of the madman hadn't arrived and they'd been left all but alone to face the insanity of the lunatic. No one had been there to prevent the trigger from being pulled on the gun of the guy that had snuck unnoticeably into Madderson High and because of that...the boy that meant the world to her had been shot down in cold blood.

" ** _PEETA!_** "

Katniss was by his side in a heartbeat.

Dropping his gun as if it was no longer of any importance, Titus turned and slowly made his way down the empty hall. Behind him was a guy clinging desperately onto life and beside him was the person that had just been forced to see, hear and feel everything. As he strode down the hall with a blank, vacant expression, he could still hear it all clear as day – Peeta gasping for any bit of air he could offer his lungs and Katniss fighting to keep herself strong and hopeful for Peeta, but feeling as if she was failing terribly. He could still see the blood spreading over Peeta's shirt and the red that was pooling onto the floor around him. Still he could see the look of shock on his victim's face and the traumatized look of the girl who was now left to deal with whatever it was that was going to unfold.

Once more the gunman smiled in triumph and a few more steps down the hall and he'd vanished completely.

Katniss placed both her hands on Peeta's cheeks and saw that his eyes were hardly open and were fluttering as if the pain of the bullet was trying to take him out of reality and into the world of the dead. She didn't even have to look to know that the gunman – the guy that had shot down her Peeta in cold blood – was gone. His work at Madderson High was done. There was no reason for him to stick around any longer because he'd accomplished what he'd set out to do, and that had been to shoot and kill Peeta Mellark. By doing so, he'd also managed to carve and punch a hole in the life of the girl who'd grown to love and adore him so in a way, it was like without even knowing it...the gunman had taken two lives that day.

For only a split second her mind went back to the previous night. She'd been dreaming and in that dream she and Peeta had been at a carnival. She remembered a single word being whispered into her ear and it was then that she heard it again and now knew who it belonged to. The word she'd heard had been _Titus_ and it belonged to the killer gunman who had shot her Peeta. It had given her a wonderful, soothing feeling while at the carnival and yet now...the boy she loved was on the floor with a bullet wound in his chest. It wasn't a word of protection but rather, was a word of horror, tragedyand anguish. The dream had been fooling with her and had been leading her to believe that Titus was a word that would give her all but the greatest of comfort. She now saw the truth, and that was that it was a name that would bring nothing but grief and despair into her soon to be shattered life.

Katniss knew the police and an ambulance would be there any second to rush Peeta to the hospital, but she wasn't leaving Peeta's side, not for a second. There was no way she'd let him stay on that cold, hard floor without someone by his side. Neverwould she want Peeta feeling alone or scared for even a second; she'd remain right by his side to let him know that he wasn't alone and that she was right there with him. What he needed more than anything right than was to know that Katniss would be there for him. Despite what would happen – whether he'd live or slip out of the world – as long as he could feel his hands in hers and know that she was right by his side...then he could pass away peacefully knowing that Katniss had been there with him.

Around her students were starting to gather and look down at the two in shock. Every one of their faces had gone as pale as a ghost as if what was unfolding before them felt more like a nightmare than what it was which was reality, and it was a reality that was all but unpredictable. Most were covering their mouths with their hands while whispering to one another in nothing but disbelief.

"W-who is that?" one girl asked, her voice scarcely perceptible.

"I...I think it's Peeta," announced one guy unsteadily.

"H-he got shot?" the girl gasped incredulously, the words barely sliding off her tongue.

All the guy could do was nod in a daze. The two, along with all the other students that were gathered around them, kept their eyes on Katniss as if their feet were glued to the ground and they could do nothing but stare sadly at Peeta's bleeding chest. The same could have so easily happened to them if they'd done what he had done which had been to not listen to the principal and hide themselves in one of the classrooms. But Peeta had done what he'd done for one reason and one reason only and that was to protect the girl he loved. He'd known the second Principal Snow's voice came over the P.A. system that getting Katniss to safety was the only thing he had to ensure happened, even if that meant putting his own life in danger.

They wanted to help. They wanted to hear there was something they could do to turn this chilling situation around, but there was only one group that could provide Peeta with the help he needed and that was the medical team. The most they could do was stand there, let Peeta know they were there and as was so often the case in unfortunate events, hope for the best but prepare for the worst.

"Peeta?" howled Katniss, keeping his face cupped securely in her hands.


	37. Chapter 37

**CHAPTER 37**

 **NOVEMBER**

Katniss glanced down to Peeta's chest and saw the blood was spreading quickly. Soon his entire shirt would be soaked with his blood and soon it would be spreading onto the floor. It was suddenly more important and crucial than ever that help get there now so Peeta could be given the help he so urgently needed. That he so desperately needed. Help might not have gotten there in time to prevent the shooting but there was still the slight chance that Peeta's life could be saved. But they had to hurry or else her Peeta would come closer and closer to leaving reality...and entering the realm of death.

"Come on, Peeta!" she sobbed, and she never stopped saying his name with the hopes that he just might hear her voice, and realize that he wasn't alone. She had to let him know that she was there and that she wasn't going anywhere.

When at last his blond lashes fluttered open, his eyes met hers and seeing her kneeling beside him, he opened his mouth and croaked out weakly, " _Katniss?_ " _Is that you, sweetheart? I-I'm having a hard time hearing things, but it sounds like you. I thought I heard your voice just now, but I wasn't sure._

"Peeta!" she cried, and had to keep from releasing constant choking sounds. "I'm right here, Peeta. I'm _right_ here."

He took a deep breath and winced in pain and whispered, "I-It hurts..." _What does it mean? Does my body know what's happening? Is it telling me I...I'm dying? Am I really dying? Will I never see your face again, Katniss? I don't want to leave though. I want to stay here with you._

Katniss positioned one of her quaking hands gently on his head and ran her fingers through his blond strands of hair as she told him hastily, "Help's coming Peeta. T-they're gonna be here any second. They're gonna f-fix you up and—"

"I-I don't think I...I can keep breathing like this...for much longer sweetheart," he rasped weakly, shutting his eyes tightly and wincing yet again in torturous pain. Breathing was becoming more difficult with each passing second, and he feared his lungs wouldn't be able to withstand much more of it. Letting the tears that had formed in his eyes slide down his cheeks and onto the hard floor, he told her faintly, "It hurts so much."

Peeta then clasped her hand and held it in his. He couldn't grip her hand very tightly but that didn't stop him from putting his hand into hers, and gripping it as tightly as he could. No matter how weak and fatigued his body felt right then, if this essentially was the end, then nothing would stop him from holding Katniss Everdeen's hand one last time.

"K-Katniss, if I...if I don't make it—"

"Don't _say_ that!" she argued, perturbed. The idea of losing Peeta was too horrifying to even consider. She _couldn't_ lose him; she _needed_ him in her life. He was the one person she'd learned to trust with all her heart, the one person she'd grown to love and admire. "You're not gonna die, Peeta. They're gonna get you better and—"

"But if I—"

"They're gonna help you! G-get you better." She swallowed hard, forcing a large, painful lump down her throat that felt more like an oversized rock. "You're gonna be okay!"

"But...but if I _don't_ _..._ make it," he wheezed and still breathing heavily, he then gave her hand as hard a squeeze as he could and beseeched, "Please...stay with me?"

Tears trickled down her face as she stared into the bright, blue eyes that had once been filled with such joy and life but were now cloudy and unfocused. What she feared was that the life was draining slowly out of them, as if they knew they wouldn't remain open for much longer. He was staring right back into hers, but she could tell that he was struggling just to keep them open, as if all they wanted was to close on him and stay closed _forever._

There was only one answer she could give him. One single word. She remembered just yesterday when the two had been down by the lake and she'd said the identical thing to him then. She'd asked him, "Stay with me?" and he'd promised her, "Always." But now it seemed like the boy with the bread was dangerously close to slipping out of her life and never in her sixteen years of living had she been struck with such a painful and insufferable fear.

She whispered to him, "Always..."

He gave her the tiniest of a smile with the bit of strength that was still in him. He couldn't do much with his body, not when it felt like every part of his being was gradually shutting down. His hands felt numb, his arms and legs felt as if they'd fallen asleep, his chest felt like it was on fire with every breath he took and his lungs felt like they'd burst at any second. So much of his body felt like it was growing weaker, losing its strength and giving up the struggle, but not his eyes. They might have felt heavy and weary, but that wouldn't prevent them from remaining fixed on the one person that was Peeta's world. Though so many people were crowded around them, it was like they were nothing but ghosts that weren't truly there but rather, were in some other dimension, observing the scene and uttering not even a word.

So many people he could be glancing around at, but his eyes weren't on any of them – they were only on Katniss.

He then asked her so faintly that she could barely make out what he was saying, "C-can you...can you singfor me?" He sniffled, exhaled and accompanied by a recently-formed collection of tears, sighed yearningly, "That song you sang f-for me...down...down by the lake?"

The look of sadness in Peeta's eyes was tearing her apart. It was like her heart had been ripped in two but if he wanted her to sing, then she _had_ to sing. She wasn't sure she'd be able to make it through a full song or not but until help arrived...by his side was where she would stay. She'd remain by his side as long as he'd need her to. She'd stay there for all eternity if that was what he asked for because she knew without even a hint of doubt that hands down...he'd do the same for her.

She sang softly and quietly and as she sang, it sounded to Peeta like a peaceful lullaby and it made him want to drift into a sleep and hear the words over and over.

 _Deep in the meadow, under the willow_

 _A bed of grass, a soft green pillow_

 _Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes_

 _And when again they open, the sun will rise_

Peeta's shirt was now covered in blood, and he was fighting to keep his eyes open. So heavy they felt and he was amazed that he was still able to keep them open when all they wanted was the opposite. As for himself, all he wanted was to gaze at Katniss forever and listen to her sing and know that if his eyes closed on him, he'd have died while listening to his sweetheart's voice. As the words of the song reached his ears, it sounded more peaceful and soothing than he'd ever recalled. He wanted to enjoy and cherish the beauty of this song, but the burning pain in his chest was like nothing he'd ever felt and all he wanted was for it to stop. He tried his hardest not to think of it and to only focus as best as he could to the words of the Valley Song. That, and the fact that he hadn't been left alone to endure this horrendous pain and fear that he'd be left to die with not even a single person at his side. No, his head was sitting comfortably on Katniss's lap and her fingers – which never left his skin even for a second – were gently stroking his blond strands of hair.

 _Here it's safe, here it's warm_

 _Here the daisies guard you from every harm_

Peeta imagined that he was no longer in the halls of Madderson High. Gone were the watching eyes of thousands of students. Gone too were the multiple gunshots that had shattered the silence and given rise to a state of unheard of fear. He was now in a gorgeous meadow and all around him for as far as he could see were daisies. Here, colors were brighter and far more beautiful than any place he'd ever laid eyes on. Just as the song promised, in every direction were daises and in such a place of tranquility, indeed he would be guarded from every harm.

They were almost impossibly beautiful but it was all too real and he couldn't take his eyes off the stunning scene. The green in the grass was a green he'd never truly seen before, as were the blue in the sky and the white in the vast field of surrounding flowers. As if the song were speaking true, he felt in some way that they really were protecting him and that he and Katniss could stay in this meadow forever and that he would be guarded from all the harms the world could have had thrown at them. This was a place that offered safety, comfort and everlasting peace. It was a place that felt like home.

 _It's beautiful here_ _,_ he thought, both awestruck and entranced.

All he wanted was to stand there forever and just gaze off at the never-ending flowers that stretched on for miles. It was so breathtaking of a view that he would have wanted nothing more than to walk off and explore. There were so many flowers and even a few gorgeous trees in the distance that it was clear this meadow offered so much more than what his eyes were currently seeing.

But his body wouldn't allow it.

What his body wanted right then was to remain still and unmoving, so all Peeta could do was lie there amidst the thousands of flowers. Though he wanted to see more of the meadow and see all of its beauty, he didn't mind lying there either. He was feeling a sense of fatigue and it was lowering his head onto the blanket of grass that he became aware of how truly tired he was. He no longer wanted to walk around and take in his surroundings; all he wanted was to settle down, relax...and fall into a peaceful sleep.

And it's such a beautiful place, thought Peeta, whose eyes were now slowly closing. It felt good to no longer have to fight against staying awake. It was so much easier to simply give in to what his body was requesting – and that was an everlasting sleep which he wouldn't wake up from. I can't think of a better placeto...to stay forever.

 _Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

 _Here is the place where I love you_

As she was singing 'here is the place where I love you', she thought she heard Peeta's voice murmuring, "I love you" but was uncertain if he'd actually spoken or not. She was about to continue on to the next verse...when she saw Peeta's eyes _closing_ _._ As if on their way into a deep, infinite sleep that would last one a lifetime, soon they were closed completely.

She flew into an instant panic and started shouting his name while pressing her fingers onto his neck where she should have felt a beating pulse. Feeling nothing, she put a hand firmly on his chest to find his heartbeat but instead felt nothing. She wasn't sure if it was _truly_ gone, or if she was so distressed that she was _imagining_ it. Everything right then felt so much like a dream and nothing like reality. All she knew was that she didn't want to lose Peeta Mellark. She couldn't because if she did, then just like her mother – who still hadn't been able to get rid of all the scars in her life – the world she'd once known would crumble with no chance of it ever getting fully put back together again. All that would remain would be a shadow of herself and the Katniss she knew would forever be trapped inside.

"Peeta!" she screamed frantically.

She immediately brought her hands to his face and could have sworn she'd felt not a bit of warmth in his face. Back and forth she went from his neck while searching for a pulse, to his heart where she felt desperately for signs that he was still alive but her head was throbbing so badly that it was too hard to confirm whether he was still in fact breathing. Or had the absolute worst thing already happened? Had her boy with the bread slipped out of the world and by doing so...had left her forever? With the harrowing pain she felt both in her head and in her heart, she couldn't even tell whether he was alive or dead but all she knew was that life without Peeta Mellark would be all but empty and hollow.

"Peeta, p-please!" she said in a choking voice, and pressed her forehead against his. "Come on, Peeta! Please don't leave me..."

She then heard the hurrying footsteps of the police and paramedics drawing nearer, but didn't turn to look at them as she screamed, "I-I can't feel a _pulse!_ I checked his neck a-and arm but I can't feel it! His heart...I-I can't tell if it's _beating_!" Katniss hardly had time to observe what they were doing to him before she saw Peeta gingerly but promptly being placed onto a stretcher and carried down the hall towards the front of the school.

In a matter of seconds, she'd rushed through the halls and blasted out the entrance doors where she then saw a sight that made her freeze. While she'd been running after them, she'd still been screaming Peeta's name and feared she'd be unable to stop screaming...until she saw what was now happening outside.

Peeta was lying flat on his back while four uniformed men quickly but carefully lifted him up into the back of an ambulance. Katniss knew she couldn't fully blame these people. They _had_ come, but it would never leave her that they hadn't come _soon_ enough. That was something she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to _forgive_ , let alone forget. She feared it would be a memory that would come back to haunt her for the rest of her life and would stay lodged in the back of her mind forever.

All she could think was: _You came too late and because of that...Peeta was shot. If you'd come just a minute earlier, that gunman could have been stopped. But he wasn't, and it was all because the help you could have given him hadn't come fast enough._

She knew the police had captured the gunman as soon as they'd arrived, so there was no chance of him fleeing the scene, but what did that matter when the boy she loved was lying in the back of an ambulance with a bullet in his chest? The fact was that whatever happened from that point on with this guy, it wouldn't change the fact that Peeta was now knocking on death's door.

She was so focused on Peeta's unmoving body in the back of the ambulance that she hadn't even noticed that a crowd of people was now gathered around and behind her. She didn't have to turn to know who they were – it was the staff and students of Madderson High. They were all there and the shock and sadness on each of their faces reflected the shock and sadness on Katniss's. Also there were all of hers and Peeta's friends: Madge, Johanna, Glimmer, Clove, Delly, Cato and Marvel...and Gale.

Most of the school knew that she and Peeta had been together for a while know and no one knew quite what to say. Madge and Delly were at a loss for words as they held Katniss in a tight hug while holding back their own tears. They wanted to be as strong as they could for Katniss but that was difficult when all they could hear was Katniss continually making gasping, choking sounds that told them she was having a truly painful time accepting the life threatening condition that Peeta was now in. Gale was with them as well and he kept both of Katniss's hands in his own, but even he was clearly shaken by the event. But no matter how shaken she was by what she'd seen and what fears she was now dealing with, he was there for her. As she wept at the scene unfolding in front of her, he did nothing but keep his arms wrapped tightly around her while pressing his forehead against her own.

 _See, Catnip_? thought Gale, never letting go of her hands, and not once taking his eyes off her. _I'm right here when you need me. I knew you'd need me the most right now...and here I am. Maybe now you'll see just how great a friend I am. Just maybe, you'll finally come to accept how you really feel about me. If not now...then definitely soon. And I'm more than willing to wait._

Though Madge, Delly and Gale were doing their best to calm Katniss, their efforts were all but useless. She was near out of control right then and the tears never stopped coming. Seeing Peeta raised into the back of the ambulance was what pushed her over the edge because it was then that she realized that she would most likely _never_ see him _again._

 _"Don't look at them, Katniss," said Gale, his voice cracking. Even though he was stunned and struggling to serve as a rock for his shaken friend, he wouldn't be leaving. He'd stay there for hours doing nothing but holding onto the person that would now be in desperate need of a shoulder to cry on. "Just keep looking at me."_

 _"But his chest is—"_

 _"I know," Gale softly interjected, placing both hands on either side of her head. With a deep breath to calm himself, he went on in as unwavering of a tone as he could muster, "But they're gonna take care of him now. I just want you to keep looking at me. Don't worry about what's going on over there. Don't look anywhere else...just keep looking at me, okay?"_

Though Katniss felt like she'd already been struck with enough pain, there was something else that was about to push her even farther over the edge. It lasted only momentarily but for how she felt and how her mind was behaving, it felt like it lasted for so much longer. Without hesitating and without uttering a word, everyone assembled touched their three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and held them out toward the ambulance and the boy that was inside – Peeta Mellark. Both the students and teachers held their fingers out towards him and held them there till the vehicle had driven off.

Before it left, however, there was all but one student who hadn't yet discovered who the person inside the back of the ambulance was and he was in an undeniable state of panic. While the students around him were clearly startled at what they were hearing and observing, their fear was nothing compared to what this guy was experiencing.

"W-who is that?" he shouted, trying to make his way through the massive crowd. He felt like a tiny minnow struggling to swim through a vast number of salmon and no matter how much he wriggled and squirmed, he couldn't get through.

"Son, you've got to stay back!" said one of the paramedics firmly, but this guy would not be denied. No amount of pushing or demanding he stay put was going to keep him from seeing what he needed to see. It didn't matter what this man had to say because this guy was going to get through, he was going to see what he needed to see, and he wasn't going to be stopped.

"Who is that!" the guy demanded, breathing hard and holding the men's gazes with a steely glare. It was an unfaltering glare that was overflowing with ever-increasing unease.

All he cared about was getting a look at who was in the back of that ambulance. Ever since he'd heard that a student had been shot, he'd been hammered with the most startling feeling. It hadn't occurred to him why he'd out of the blue get struck with such a feeling, but it was there all the same and he couldn't disregard it as another confounding trick of the limitless mind. It was real, alive, extending like a virus from his flustered conscious down to his drumming heart and evidently...wouldn't be going away.

"W-who is that?" he asked in trepidation, and by now his voice was nearing a scream. Something foreign and uncomfortable was crawling – inch by agonizing inch – up his throat and he hadn't the slightest idea of what it meant, but he knew it couldn't be good. Whatever it was, it meant something bad and somewhere inside him he was met with the most disconcerting fear. "W-what's going on with him? Who is—"

The man then turned and returned to the back of the ambulance. He didn't ignore the guy, so he revealed to him the name of the person and it was like the bombs in the gunman's chest had gone off and were now exploding around him. It felt like the deadly explosion was now hitting him with such a force that he feared his legs would give out on him at that very moment. It was hearing the man present him with the name of the guy in the ambulance that something began stirring inside him, and it filled him with a sense of total and utter dread. It was a dread that he'd never once experienced in the seventeen years he'd been living, but a few seconds was all it took for him to become all too familiar with it.

"Peeta Mellark."

That was when the student was finally able to push his way through the crowd and when he caught side of the vehicle and the body inside...anyone could see that tears were forming in his eyes. As soon as the name had left the man's mouth, it was all starting to come together. The pieces hadn't made sense up until then but hearing this name brought all the pieces together, and it was crystal clear. Noticing the recognizable strands of blond hair poking out from under the white sheet further confirmed this. In spite of the boy's body and face being concealed from prying eyes, there was no arguing the identify of that selfless hero. Removing the blanket that draped him wouldn't be necessary, as it had dawned on Rye who that ill-fated quarry was. He now understood why he'd been hit with such an enormous sense of fear that had taken his body by inexorable storm. He was no longer feeling lost or confused as to who was now in the back of the ambulance; that had been wiped out all too quickly.

What he was now feeling was numb, shaken and horribly frightened.

He stood there and without even realizing it, yelled out in shock and noticeable anger, "THAT'S MY BROTHER!"

When Katniss heard the voice, she turned and when she saw who it was, it made the situation seem all the more alarming. Here was a guy who for so many years had teased and tormented his brother and was known to most as a jerk, slug and a pest but now there was a look of grief in his eyes. It couldn't have been more obvious if he'd put a mask on his face, and no one could make it out better than Katniss. Though she saw it all too plainly, all those around her could see it as well. No one could question the sadness showing on his face – on the face of Rye Mellark.

It wasn't till the ambulance was speeding off and the sound of the blaring siren was reaching his ears that Rye called out in a desperate scream of, " ** _PEETA!_** "

The sight alone was too much to bear. To think that his brother was in the back of that vehicle with a bullet in his chest and dangerously close to slipping out of the world, he just couldn't handle it. Of all the situations he'd been faced with in life, none of them could measure up to the fear that was now invading his mind. None of the situations had ever left him in such denial of what was in front of him and the ambulance drawing farther and farther away from Madderson High was something he couldn't bring himself to accept as reality.

Shaking his head, Rye willed his feet to start moving and soon he was running as fast as he could after the ambulance. His body might have been shaking, his head might have been pounding and his heart might have felt like it was fighting to burst out of his chest, but that didn't stop him. He focused only on pumping his legs as hard as he could. It didn't matter how deafening a sound the siren was in his head, or that he just couldn't will it go silent because nothing would prevent him from reaching his brother. If his mind wouldn't have been so worried and stressed, he would have realized how pointless it was to go chasing after a vehicle driving at full speed, but he wasn't in his right mind even the slightest. All he could think was that if that ambulance left with his wounded brother and vanished entirely, he'd never see Peeta again.

It was almost out of sight. A few more seconds and it would turn and make its way onto the main road, headed for the nearest hospital.

"No!" screamed Rye, and his voice was so loud that every student gathered outside could hear clear as day the grief in his voice. _I can't let them take him! I-I gotta stop them...make sure he's okay and—_

"Rye, stop!" called a man's voice from behind.

Rye wasn't listening though. He ignored the man's call and dug his feet in even harder and kept his eyes nowhere but on the ambulance that was now almost out of view. He couldn't and wouldn't let it escape. _He could be dying! I can't let him be alone!_ He knew once it vanished, the world itself would come crashing down and there'd be no hopes for it rebuilding itself. Things would turn inside out and the once bright sun in the sky would die out to give rise to eternal shadows. It would be a bleak and wretched existence that he would be forced to endure for the rest of his life.

"Peeta, I'm—" but without warning, Rye tripped over his feet, stumbled to the ground and felt his knees skidding against the hard, solid pavement. It wasn't as painful as it could have been if he'd been wearing shorts but the impact felt like the wind had been knocked right out of his lungs. It all happened so fast that he didn't have time to try and keep himself balanced before he staggered to the ground, hitting the sidewalk with enough force to make him start believing that stars were floating over his head. This lasted only momentarily though and seconds later, he returned his focus to the distance only to see that both the ambulance and his brother were gone.

"Peeta!" he shouted desperately.

He shakily got to his knees, took a breath and it was like his whole body was freezing up on him. Nothing in the world made sense right then. This couldn't be happening. Everything – Peeta getting shot, placed in the back of an ambulance which then hurriedly made its way onto the main road – it had to be a dream. He was dreaming and would soon wake up to find his brother was home, safe and not on his way to possible death.

"Rye, stop!" came the voice again. It sounded vaguely familiar, as if Rye had heard it before but his mind was too traumatized to even recall where he might have heard it, let alone who it belonged to.

Appearing beside him was Mr. Odair and one glance into his eyes and anyone could see he felt just as startled and upset as anyone else. He kneeled down next to Rye, put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a light shake but still the seventeen-year-old wouldn't look at him. He didn't want to look into the eyes of one of his high school teachers.

What he wanted was to look into the eyes of his little brother.

"No," said Rye weakly, and fell to the ground. He pressed his head against the hard ground and let the tears forming in his eyes trickle down his cheeks. The ambulance was gone and with it, so was his brother. He needed to see him, speak with him and say so many things that he needed to hear, but he couldn't.

He was completely and utterly unable to do anything.

In a choking voice, Rye cried out in woe, "He's gone..."

"Listen to me, Rye," said Mr. Odair, keeping his hand firmly on Rye's shoulder to let him know that he wasn't alone in this tragic time. "I understand what just happened and what you just saw, but he's going to the hospital now. They're going to do all they can to make him better and—"

"No!" shouted Rye, and both his hands were clenched into fists. His body was now acting entirely on its own and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The trembling, shaking and chill that ran up his spine like blocks of ice were things he simply couldn't stop, even if he tried to. He just didn't have the power to control how his body was now behaving. Just like his mind, it was now locked in a state of total and utter shock. "I-I gotta talk to him and—"

"And you will," said the teacher reassuringly. "But right now Peeta has to be taken to—"

"You don't get it," said Rye in despair, running his hand through his thick hair nervously. "No one does!"

"Rye, I'm sure you'll be able to—"

"But I won't!" he argued, his voice rising to a frightened scream. "You don't get it! You weren't there all those times! You didn't hear everything I said to him! What I did to him! I never treated Peeta like a brother! I should have been there for him but I wasn't! He cared about me and would have done anything for me but...but I shoved him away a-and I'll never see him again!" After inhaling a few anxious breaths, he murmured in angst, "He's gonna die thinking I wanted nothing to d-do with him a-and that I hated him!"

Mr. Odair opened his mouth to speak, but Rye carried on talking in that same anguished voice. Every student and teacher standing by the entrance doors could sense how tense the atmosphere had grown in just a few short seconds. It had been heart-wrenching enough watching Peeta's bleeding body get lifted into the back of the ambulance, but hearing the angst in his brother's voice made every hair on their body stand on end. Barely anyone realized how their bodies were responding to this screaming voice and even those that felt their arms quivering slightly hardly noticed. All they were doing was standing there appearing still as statues while listening to the chilling cries of a guy who was trapped in the fiery, endless depths of his own living hell.

By now, Rye was on his hands and knees with his head nearly to the ground. From behind, it might have looked like he was sick and suffering an unpleasant round of vomiting, but that wasn't the case. What was happening was that he was being forced to confront all the appalling and disgraceful things he'd said and done to his little brother. All the truths that had been hiding inside him were coming out to stare him straight in the face and stress to him that what he had done to Peeta was simply unacceptable. He found himself staring into a mirror and what should appear to him but the loathsome monster he'd been year after year.

 _Cruel and heartless,_ it hissed to him, and he was shaken by how spiteful he actually sounded. It was like the voice was crawling about his body and leaving him with chills that made his whole body go numb. _That's what you are! Nasty, harsh and uncaring! It's what you've always been! Don't care for that little brother of yours! Who needs him anyway?_ _He can never_ _compare to Rye Mellark!_

"I'm sorry," Rye whispered, and his voice was so quiet that Mr. Odair didn't catch what he was saying, but he was about to. All too soon this guy's voice would transform from an anguished whisper into that of an anguished howl. It would be so loud that neighbours, people wandering the streets and those strolling down the sidewalks would hear it plain as day.

After forcing a dry lump down his throat, Rye lifted his head and with tears flowing out of his eyes, he began howling. What with his raised head and deafening howls, he sounded eerily similar to that of a wolf howling to the moon on a dark and lonely night. The anguish in his voice was so heart-rending and unlike anything the students and teachers of Madderson High had ever heard, that it felt like his pain was becoming their own. It was almost unbearable to hear and within minutes, his screaming voice was echoing in their ears and each time they heard it, it sounded more haunting than ever. Not a word was spoken amongst anyone but there was something so many of them could silently agree on – the howling voice of Ryder Mellark on that day wasn't a sound they'd ever soon forget.

With a scream that sent unsettling chills down the back of every person assembled, Rye sobbed, " _ **I'M SORRY PEETA!**_ "

Never in his life had he screamed so hard and so loud to the point where he thought his voice would fade out entirely. There had been times where he screamed, shouted and raised his voice but never had he known what it was like to scream out of sheer distress. It was a feeling that couldn't be compared to anything else he'd ever experienced, not even on the most upsetting days. The pain of it all was simply too colossal and the kind of torture now being inflicted onto his mind was a pain no one should have to suffer. It was a pain that latched onto one's heart like an infectious bug, drove one's mind insane and left one restless and shedding tears every night for what felt like a disheartening lifetime.

For Rye Mellark, it was a pain that felt just like dying.

Destructive and riotous was the twinge that had now so fluently burrowed into his susceptible train of regrets.

The tears continued trickling down his face and with great difficulty, he managed to rise to his feet. He feared if he stayed crouched on the ground any longer, his body might not let him stand and go anywhere, so he did his best to keep on his feet. His own frantic screaming could now be heard bouncing around in his head and after wiping his eyes several times, he whimpered weakly, "I...I didn't mean what I said. I-I didn't want you to go and get yourself k...k-killed."

All he could think as he stared off into the distance was that he had lost his brother. The exceptionally decent brother who'd so rarely given him a hard time about anything, _never_ called him a offensive name and _never_ did anything to hurt or upset him...was now gone. The truth dawned on him that he'd been a truly nasty brother to Peeta over the years and now he might never get the chance to _apologize._ He might never get the chance to hug his little brother and tell him that he hadn't meant all the horrible things he'd thrown at him and that despite how he'd treated him, he really did love him. The possibility of this terrified him so deeply because all he wanted right then was to go to his brother and tell him he was sorry for acting like such a brat.

 _H-he's gone_ , thought Rye wretchedly. Suddenly his body was giving out on him and he could no longer remain standing, so he fell to his knees and dropped his head and stared only at the ground while letting the pain consume him. His brother was gone and there was every possibility that he'd never get the chance to apologize to the guy he'd picked on for so many years. _I'll never be able to say sorry or_... _or try and change how I treated him. He's...he's gonna die thinking I hated him, that I didn't want to be friends with him again. He's gonna die thinking I wanted him dead._

Once more the words he'd spit into Peeta's face rang through his head. They were the last words he'd spoken to his brother prior to this tragic day, the day where Peeta had gotten shot down in cold blood by a monster of a psychopath.

" _Why don't you go and get yourself killed? You sure as hell aren't wanted in this house, so why bother stay here? You really should go and do that, you know. I don't care what happens to you. Doesn't matter to me what happens. Just go and get the hell out of my life because I don't want you in it anymore! I want you to vanish. Don't even care where you go or what happens to you. Just get the hell out of my life!"_

Tears fell down his face as he thought miserably: _why couldn't it have been me? Why did Peeta have to be the one to get shot and killed? It's always the innocent that suffer and get hurt but it should have been me! I should be in the back of that ambulance...not Peeta!_

So many thoughts of shame and guilt were flooding into his mind and what with how shaken he was, he would have stayed kneeling on that sidewalk for hours. He'd remain locked in this dark, shadowy realm of his where he was continuously shown just how much of a brat he'd been to Peeta. It was a realm that refused to let him escape and knowing this, Rye was all set to stay sitting with his head dropped...till he heard the sound of an approaching car.

He didn't think to turn his head and look to see who it was and even if he'd wanted to, he was so hopelessly numb. There wasn't a part of his body that didn't feel like it was freezing up but though his body was in a state of numbness, that didn't prevent him from hearing the new arrivals. He didn't even have to look behind him to see who it was because the second this person began speaking, he knew right away who it was.

"We have to go," said the man quickly, his voice cracking.

Hearing the tension in his father's voice triggered something in Rye and the words came pouring out of him.

"He was shot!" yelled Rye hysterically and without realizing it, his body began shuddering all over again in an uncontrollable panic. "T-they put him in the ambulance but h-his chest was covered in blood and—" and the panic rose in his voice as he cried, "It didn't look like he was breathing! H-his chest wasn't moving!"

What his father said next, Rye only heard as deep and muffled as if he was covering his mouth with his hand. The words reached his ears, but he hadn't any idea of what they were and even when his father had rushed over to his son and was standing directly in front of him, still his father's voice sounded hazy and distant.

"We gotta go, Rye," said Mr. Mellark, who wasn't yet aware of how severely damaged his son was feeling.

One look, however, was all it took.

When he looked into his son's eyes he saw a place filled only with shadows, darkness and tormenting screams. It was a look his father wasn't familiar with and it truly startled him, as if he feared he might be losing not just one child that day, but two. No matter how alarming it was though, time right then was precious and not a single second of it could be wasted. All that mattered right then was getting to where they needed to go.

"B-but he was shot!" cried Rye, and the panic in his voice was only growing. He was too numb to be aware of it, but his heart was beating so rapidly and out of control that anyone might have guessed he was close to having a heart attack. "There was b-blood on his chest a-and he wasn't b-breathing and he wasn't even moving!"

When Mr. Mellark saw his son struggling just to get up on his feet, he quickly put an arm around his shoulder and helped him make his way to the car. Rye hobbled on shaky legs and soon enough, he was at the car and opening the door for him from inside was Luchi, whose face had been drained of all color and was now pale and white. This mirrored the look on Rye's own face but he was too lost in his own thoughts to even notice this. For a brief minute, he was able to re-enter reality and force himself into the car. Luchi didn't say a word as his brother entered the car; his attention was focused solely on Madderson High and the hundreds of students that were engaged in nervous discussion. His mother was sitting in the passenger seat with her head down and her eyes on the floor and anyone could see that she too was lost in a secret world of her own.

As for Mr. Mellark, he was moving faster than he'd ever moved in his life. Once Rye was in the back of the car alongside Luchi, he hurried back into the front seat, closed the door and did his best to calm down enough to concentrate on getting his family to where they needed to go. One quick breath to shake himself together was all he took before starting the car, turning it around and driving out onto the main road. Everyone's eyes were now on the busy street ahead of them, but Rye's were still staring behind them at Madderson High. In the back of his mind he could still see the four officers appearing out of the school carrying a long stretcher that held the body of his brother – a person he might and would likely never get the chance to speak to again.

It was then that he realized that the image of watching his brother get lifted into the back of that ambulance and then watching helplessly as it sped off with its siren blaring...was something that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

There was only one thing in the world Rye wanted right then and that was a chance to speak with his brother and tell him he was sorry. He wanted him to get the apology he so greatly deserved. He wanted to know that his brother would make it through this and tell him how truly horrid he felt about having spent his entire life treating him like worthless dirt. He wanted to tell him how sorry he was for having treated him as if he'd been all but a fly on the wall and had meant nothing to him. He had to let Peeta know that he wasn't the worthless dirt or fly on the wall that he'd gone on telling him he was year after year, but that he was so much more than that. He had to let him know that he was his brother, his own flesh and blood and was a guy that had deserved none of what Rye had said and done to him over the years. He had to let him know that he had always longed for his best friend again...and that he was now longing more than ever for him.

But he couldn't because Peeta Mellark was now on his way to the hospital.

And so were he and his family.


	38. Chapter 38

**CHAPTER 38**

 **NOVEMBER**

She was standing behind him and no amount of resisting or struggling was going to change anything. His decision was already made and as long as he went through with what he knew _had_ to be done, then despite what happened from that point in, he would have succeeded in protecting and saving the girl he loved. Not only that, but an entire school would be spared from getting blown to ashes from the countless bombs in the gunman's jacket. No matter what happened when the bullet came into contact with his body – even if he died – he could die with comfort and relief at knowing he'd saved Katniss Everdeen's life and _that_ would let him slip out of the world in _peace._

In a final desperate cry, she was screaming, "Peeta...DON'T!"

But it came as no surprise to her when he remained silent and said nothing to her in reply. It occurred to her that if he did respond or utter even a word than he just might change his mind about what he'd settled on doing. His mind had been made and it was then and it was as if his whole body was in agreement that he became still, calm and unafraid. The single, overriding thought of ' _Katniss will be safe_ ,' had relaxed his entire being and no longer were his arms shaking, nor were his legs quivering. His eyes could now see things clearly, as if his vision had been blurred but now his sight was allowing him to see the situation for what it was. The trembling in his lips had stopped, his mind was now in a state of calmness, and the vast fear he'd felt while staring at the gun the moment it was taken out of the killer's pocket had been overcome.

All Katniss remembered was the trigger being pulled, and the sound of a sharp _pang_ as the bullet went screaming towards Peeta and into his open chest. The only sound that came out of his mouth was a gasp of _shock_ _,_ _surprise_ and _pain_ for never in his life had he felt like his entire chest was exploding as if a series of bombs had gone off. Like a ragdoll, he went staggering to the ground and almost instantly, the blood began oozing and spreading onto his shirt as he let out deep, shaky intakes of breath. The impact of getting shot had left him feeling like a huge weight was getting pressed onto his lungs and each time he inhaled it was like the weight was increasing vastly.

With the firing of that single bullet, Katniss had lost her boy with the bread. He now lie crumpled on the floor while fighting desperately to cope with the excruciating pain that tore through his wounded body...but the pain proved too great for him to handle. No person could ever deal with such unexplainable pain. How could one describe a pain where no word could truly describe the torture and torment it brought to one's body? How could one possibly put into words what a single bullet could feel like it was doing to a person's body? Whether it felt like one's body was on fire and burning out of control, or that a series of bombs had been set off and were now exploding, no one could have ever truly known just where to begin to explain a feeling that was like no other.

As she sat kneeling beside him, he asked her for only one thing and that was for her to sing to him. So many times he'd asked her to sing the Valley Song but never had she sung it with such a throbbing and piercing lump in her throat. She hadn't gotten even halfway through the song before his eyes were closing and any signs of life in him were... _gone_ _._ She was an emotional wreck and knew she _could_ have been imagining it what with the frantic, panic-stricken state she was in, but there was all but a single thought that kept coming back to her. Her Peeta Mellark looked so still, inactive and lifeless that she was starting to fear what was really happening and that was that he was _dying._

She flew into instant panic.

She put her hands by his neck and feeling no pulse, went straight to his heart but just like his neck, there was nothing. Not wanting to accept any of it, she took his face into her hands and began shouting his name over and over but he was as still as ever as if he'd become nothing but a statue.

"Peeta!" she screamed, and went on hollering his name to the point where she thought her voice would give out on her. But she didn't stop screaming. She couldn't. " _Wake up_ , Peeta!"

"Katniss?"

" _Please_...wake up!"

"Katniss!"

Suddenly, she felt a pair of strong hands giving her a forceful shake and then the blurred image of a man came into sight. She thought she recognized the sea green eyes and bronze-colored hair. She focused and then realized who it was and where she'd been that entire time. She was in art class and the man shaking her was Mr. Odair. Without even knowing it she'd fallen into another hallucination, just like she'd done with her father the previous day.

"Come, on Katniss," said her teacher, who kept his hands on her shoulders. "Snap out of it...that's it. You're okay."

She shook her head and argued, "It's notokay! He's supposed to be _here_ painting with me but he's _not_! He's in the hospital and for all I know he could be _dying_ this very second! It's not okay! The last place in the world where he should be right now is at a hospital. He should be here!"

Mr. Odair only nodded and told her softly, "I know. It's _not_ fair, and you're absolutely right."

There was a brief pause before he added, "Katniss, I know this is hard for you right now, but if you don't want to finish the mask, then I'm completely fine with you dropping it altogether. I wouldn't want you to proceed finishing it if you'd rather not. You could—"

"No," she said flatly, but the emotion in her voice was impossible to miss. "It's our mask! I'm not just giving up on it. I want to finish it for...for _both_ of us. We did everything together – every assignment or project we ever did we worked on them together. That's how it's _always_ been, and I-I don't want to change that."

"I know," he said softly. "That's why I wanted to let you know that if you find it too hard to be _here_ , then you're more than welcome to find somewhere else to work on the mask. Maybe the library, another classroom, in the halls or anywhere you'd like. I just don't want you to feel like you _have_ to work on it here, not if it makes you this distraught."

"I-I know," she started, and then took a shaky breath and continued, "But I want to try and work on it here. I...I guess I can still feel him next to me and I...just don't want to leave that. I like thinking that in a way he's still here with me."

Katniss stared into his eyes and what she saw there was nothing but genuine sympathy. It was obvious he knew how hard she was taking what had happened to Peeta, and it must have been difficult for him to have to sit by and watch one of his students feel so anguished and broken. He knew just how close her and Peeta had been, considering there hadn't been one sketch or painting that they hadn't helped the other with. Since the first day of school they'd been partners, but now Katniss was all but alone. The boy she'd done so many sketches and paintings with, the boy who'd helped and made her find an appreciation for art was all but an empty seat now in what had been her favourite class just yesterday morning. She'd been so excited to head to art after her free but little did she know the tragic and inevitable fate the entire school would find themselves faced with. All of Madderson High had been on the edge of meeting a tragic end but in the end, it had been Katniss and Peeta who had been the ones to end up in the clutches of Titus and unable to escape the bullets in his gun.

As she turned her attention to the seat next to her –to the seat that Peeta Mellark had once sat in – she couldn't stop her mind from drifting off once more.

It was the first day of school and her first class was art. She was standing in the open doorway staring into the crowded room with only one question on her mind and that was, " _Where do I sit?_ " Right away she saw that most seats were already taken and the teacher was busy gathering papers, carrying supplies and setting things up. She tried picking out an available seat but came to the conclusion that all had been taken and seconds later, that's when she saw it – an empty seat.

As she made her way towards it, she couldn't help but notice the blond-haired boy sitting next to it and the brightness in his blue eyes. He gave her a quick glance, but then just as quickly he dropped his head and tried pretending that he was busy fidgeting with his fingers when really, all he was thinking about was the girl that had just sat down next to him. Her hair was in its usual braid, and she was dressed in a green t-shirt, jeans and wore a pair of running shoes. She was now sitting next to him and all the guy next to her could think was that he could finally speak with her.

After the teacher had explained his plans for the class which was for each student to find a partner and create a portrait of them, Peeta didn't hesitate to turn and speak to her. He'd been waiting too long and for too many years to sit by and be silent anymore. It was time for him to put aside his nerves and open his mouth.

"Want to be partners?" he said with a friendly smile.

Katniss gave a small smile in return and answered, "Okay."

A week later she was back in art class and this time each student had been required to bring an object from home that they would then paint. The important thing that Mr. Odair emphasized was that the object _had_ to hold some kind of meaning and importance. Katniss had brought the mockingjay pin that her father had given her when she was a child, but when she saw what Peeta had brought, it didn't surprise her even the slightest.

What he had brought was a container that held three uniquely decorated cupcakes, each being a different size and each with its own special color scheme. The large one was coated with chocolate frosting and topped off with round sprinkles that gave it the look of a cookie with white chocolate chips. The small one was done up to look like a pumpkin pie and the medium-sized one which was the one that stood out the most, was decorated to resemble the face of a cat.

Peeta spread them out in front of him and said, "My favourite's the cat. That was the most fun one to make. Took longer than the others, but it came out alright."

Katniss chuckled at this, and was about to comment on how much the treat looked like her cat Buttercup when the oddest thing started to happen. She felt dizzy in the head and when she glanced down to her hands she could hardly make out what they were anymore. All she saw was a fading light and looking around the room it was the same thing – a bright, powerful light that outshone everything around her. The one thing she could still make out as clear as anything was Peeta. But what she now saw made her want to scream, shut her eyes and never again have to open them because the sight in front of her was just too horrendous.

Standing in front of Peeta was the gunman named Titus and like she'd noticed about in him yesterday, his eyes belonged to those of a crazed madman. But _why_ was he there? He didn't belong there and that's when it struck her that Titus would _never_ truly be gone and would _never_ leave her scarred mind. He would forever be haunting her and would forever ensure that Peeta Mellark got shot in the chest. He would forever make sure that Peeta Mellark was killed. That had been his mission and he would continue to fulfill that mission day after day in Katniss's _mind. And she had the grim feeling that each time she'd have to relive the horrific event, it would only feel as if it were occurring for the first time and each time she was forced to revisit it, it would feel just as painful as the last._

He was still dressed all in black with the long coat and still in his hand was the gun that was pointed directly at Peeta. She ran over and stood in front of Peeta in hopes of saving him from the bullet that was about to get blasted into his chest. But Titus only shook his head as if she amused him and gave her a grin that could only be described as evil. There was no other word she could come up with that could even begin to portray the evil in his grin and the wickedness that was written all over his face. He then winked, pulled the trigger and just when Katniss was bracing herself for the impact of the screaming bullet to get fired into her chest, the impossible happened. As if she were no more than invisible, the bullet went directly through her and struck Peeta squarely in the chest.

Katniss gave a pained little gasp as she watched him get thrown to the floor with a sickening thud. She fell to the ground next to him, took his face in her trembling hands and went in full panic when she felt not a breath of air escaping from his mouth. Titus gave an almost inaudible chuckle as if the whole thing were all but comical for him, and then turned and fled.

Katniss shook him and though her throat now felt as dry as sandpaper, she screamed frantically, "Peeta! _Peeta...please! Breathe!"_

"Katniss! Come on, Katniss!"

Once more she felt the hands of Mr. Odair shaking her firmly back to reality and that's when she knew right there and then that she couldn't stay there. Being in that room was too much to handle because no matter how hard she tried, all she saw was that empty seat next to her and the loneliness and emptiness that consumed her only brought her endless suffering. She knew she couldn't stay in there, not when it had been the place where she had first met Peeta. It was the place where their friendship had been _born_ , and it was also the place where their friendship had _grown._

"I-I tried to save him," she explained and tears were forming in her eyes. One look into her eyes and Mr. Odair knew that she had to be someplace else. It was clear that being there only brought torment and grief for her.

So he took her by the arms and lifting her carefully up and out of her chair, he said gently, "Come on, Katniss. Let's find you a spot to work at."

She didn't resist or try and break out of his arms. She simply let him lead her towards the door and out of the class. Before she left, she gave one last glance back into the room and saw that there wasn't one student not watching her with the greatest of empathy. No one could imagine what she was going through and none of them wanted to know just how much pain she was dealing with. All they could do was let her know that both she and Peeta were in their thoughts.

The place Mr. Odair took her to was the cafeteria. Luckily, it wasn't very busy which meant at least Katniss could work in a place that was quiet with few distractions. There were too many things back in the art room that would get her off track and all she'd end up doing to herself was thinking only of Peeta and the bullet that had put a hole in both his life and hers. It didn't matter what she focused on – the paints, the brushes, the papers, the pencils, the empty chair beside her, the easels – it all made her obsess over what had happened and how because of it, he was no longer there with her.

She took a seat at a table near the back and set her mask on the table and shifted her gaze to the paints and brushes that Mr. Odair was setting down for her.

"I understand what you're going through, Katniss," said Mr. Odair softly. "I...I'd been through a lot in my teenage years and most of it I stillhaven't gotten over. It was experiencing everything I had that I ultimately realized something and it's stayed with me ever since. It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart. I understood that all too well and I...I truly hope for both you and Peeta that he'll be okay."

Katniss replayed his words over in his head, and gave him a silent nod before returning her attention to her feet on the ground.

"Now if you need _anything_ at all, Katniss," he told her kindly. "You know where to find me. If you need _anyone_ to talk to, just come and find me, okay?" All she did was nod quietly while keeping her eyes on the paints. Mr. Odair watched her for a moment, and then turned and made his way back to his class.

Katniss stared at the paints in a trance, thinking only of how Peeta would have known just what colors to use for a particular painting and how best to mix the colors. He was the true definition of an artist and he'd always been there to give her advice and to help her with whatever it was she was working on. But not anymore. Today she would have to get the mask done without him there to praise and comment on her progress. It would be the first and only time she had ever worked on something without Peeta right there beside her telling her how great of a job she was doing and how he could hardly wait to see the finished piece.

Though her mind was in a million spots, she _did_ know where to get started. She knew Peeta had said just days ago that he'd planned on painting his side of the mask with cookies, cakes, bread and anything else that could be found in his father's bakery, so that's what she'd start with.

Once she'd gotten some paper towel, she reached for the tube of white paint and squeezed some onto it. Her plan was to paint the background of the mask in pure white and then have everything else – all the bakery treats – painted precisely on top. She took the brush in her hand, but with how shaky and unstable her hand was, it took her a minute to properly hold it in her fingers. Then, she carefully brought her brush onto the mask and began to paint.

Not even a minute had passed before something was stopping her from proceeding. She hadn't been sure of what it was at first but the harder she listened, like a punch to the gut...she knew what it was. Suddenly she was getting pulled back into the art room and forced back into her chair. What she was trying so hard not to consume her mind with was now _whispering_ to her. It was after she'd focused on the sound and recognized where she'd heard it before and who it belonged to, that she knew whose voice it was – it was _Peeta's._

He might have been in the hospital and miles away from her and not truly calling out to her, but there was no denying or mistaking that his voice was now in her head. It was a whisper and as it spoke to her, it brought her back to that day when she'd learned all of Peeta's past and how he'd been in love with her for eleven years. All the things he had said to her that day were rushing back into both her mind and her heart.

 _Maybe I could teach Mags how to frost?_

She took a breath, and then brought her brush back onto the mask and continued to coat it in white.

 _Me and my brothers help out too. We help with the baking but I like frosting the cakes. That's always what I've liked doing_.

 _Don't stop, Katniss_ , she told herself, doing all she could to not let the voice keep her from doing what she wanted to do, and that was to paint her and Peeta's mask. But ignoring his voice was too challenging of a task and over and over it kept on whispering to her. _Just try and keep painting_.

 _I know I want to be an artist, that's for sure. I've wanted that since I was five. I just can't picture myself doing anything but painting and drawing for the rest of my life._

A few minutes later she had Peeta's side of the mask painted entirely in white. She'd succeeded in the first part of the project; it was now time to move on to adding the treats. She washed and dried her brush, and then dipped it in a puddle of brown which she'd use to get started on the cookies. The brush had barely touched the mask when Peeta's murmuring voice spoke out faster than ever, and all that he'd said was coming back to her in all but a few simple seconds.

 _Pretty crowded, huh? Hope we can find a table._

 _Don't worry about it. Tell you what? If it makes you feel any better, you can buy me lunch sometime? Okay?_

 _So any idea what you'd like to do after high school? Any plans?_

 _Who knows? Come next year you might like art better than you thought you would_.

That was it. She had to take a break from painting the mask. Her hand was shaking uncontrollably and trying to hold the brush felt about as hard as lifting weights. The second she decided this and put her brush back on the table, Peeta's voice vanished at once. She then dropped her head and stared intently at the table while gradually starting to calm down. Only a few seconds later, she heard _another_ voice. She wondered if Peeta's voice had returned to carry on speaking, but it didn't take her long to perceive the voice as not Peeta's, but _Gale's._

"Hi, Catnip _._ _"_

She lifted her head and saw the one person she'd rather _not_ have to be faced with right then. After everything she'd been through, she just wasn't in the mood to have to put up with his frustration and bitterness. But as she sat there reading and studying his expression, she realized that he was anything _but_ bitter. He looked calm and there was even the tiniest of a smile on his lips.

"Hi," she said tiredly.

He took a seat across from her, stretched his arms out along the table and did nothing but look at her. When he saw how exhausted, drained and troubled she looked, his face softened and he asked with concern, "How you doin'?"

She shrugged and answered honestly, " _Terrible_."

"I hear ya," said Gale softly. "I know it hasn't been easy, the last little bit. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

She didn't respond. She simply ran her fingers along the various tubes of paint as if his words were nothing but meaningless air. Despite her lack of enthusiasm to try and have a conversation with him, he wasn't going to just sit there and be silent. He'd been patiently waiting for this exact moment to arrive and now that it was here, he was going to _seize_ it.

"Look, I...I know you're going through a lot," he began, keeping his eyes on her. "But I thought maybe it might be good if you got out for a bit, you know? It's probably not doing you much good sitting around constantly thinking of Peeta and all so I was wondering if you wanted to do something together...go to a _movie_ maybe?"

Little did Gale know that mentioning a movie would be like waving a red flag in front of Katniss. Her face grew hard as stone and when he glanced at her hands he saw they were tightening into fists. It was obvious that what he'd said, she _didn't_ like. All he needed was one glimpse into her now blazing eyes to see that.

"How can you even _talk_ like that?" she asked furiously. Unlike Gale though, Katniss was able to better control her anger when she felt it rising inside her. She remained in her seat and didn't look like she was about to throw a punch or slam the table with her fist. "Here, all you care about is going to a stupid movie and Peeta's in the hospital and—"

"He's gonna be fine, Katniss," said Gale, as if Peeta getting a bullet in the chest was nothing to worry about and that she was overreacting. By his tone, it definitely seemed like he felt that way. "The doctors will fix him up, he'll get nursed back to health and then—"

"But what if hedoesn't?" Katniss shouted, and by now her eyes were burning with fury. "What if he's lying in a bed right now dying?"

"He was only shot _once_ , Katniss," said Gale calmly. "It's not like he was shot several times."

"He's in critical condition!" she argued, and she couldn't stop from screaming. She also couldn't stop the tears from trickling down her cheeks at knowing that the boy she loved more than anything else in the world was lying in a bed and was potentially...on his way to his _death_ _._ It pained her more than words could say at knowing that her boy with the bread had a slim, a _very_ slim chance of walking out the hospital _alive_ _._ It was then that she understood just how insensitive and thoughtless Gale was acting towards Peeta getting shot.

"You don't even _care_ ," she said, her voice now in a whisper of numbness. "You never liked Peeta, so why do _you_ care what happened to him? All you ever worried about was _us_ being together. You're not even a little upset about what happened!"

"Katniss, I already told you," Gale said firmly. "He's gonna be fine—"

She sighed and told him, "Just... _leave_ , Gale. I don't want to talk anymore."

"Katniss, I'm here to help!" he said, letting a touch of anger creep into his voice. "You don't get it! That guy's gonna be fine, trust me. Just stop worrying about it so much and—"

"I can't just stop worrying about him, Gale!" she yelled, and got to her feet. She stared him down with such an intense stare that all Gale could do was look away and bite his lip in aggravation. "What about that don't you _understand_? I love him! And now I might _never_ get to see him again!"

The two held eye contact for what felt like a lifetime. Neither blinked, uttered a word or made a move to go at the other out of sheer frustration. They just stood there like lifeless statues while glaring at the other. After a moment, it was Katniss who spoke first.

"Gale, I...I don't want to see you _anymore_ ," she said and dropped her gaze to the floor. "All you've ever done is tried to convince me to be with you when I've told you so many times that I don't _feel_ that way about you. But you never stopped. And it's just gotten too _tiring_ _._ I know you'll never be happy with just being friends but I mean this when I say it...I want you _out of my life_ , Gale."

Gale didn't argue, scoff or speak at all. He just stood there and glared at her with his cold, unblinking eyes.

"Peeta's made me so _happy_ ," she told him. "But you...all you've done is made me stressed and made me feel like I _had_ to be with you when that's never what I wanted. But you never listened. And I can't deal with this anymore. Just _please_ stay away from me, Gale."

Gale gave a nod and Katniss could instantly tell how crushed and furious he was. He gave one last look at her and fighting to keep from shouting out, he said flatly, " _Fine_. If _that's_ what you want, then fine." He turned and started off but not before calling over his shoulder, " _Bye,_ Catnip."

She didn't respond or call back to him. She just sat back down at the table, already feeling relieved at Gale no longer being there. At one time, he _had_ filled her life with fun and happiness but now all he provided her with was anger and bitterness. She kept her eyes directly on the table as he stormed off and out the cafeteria doors.

As he stomped through the halls, there was all but one single thought on his raging mind and that was: _Fuckin'_ _Peeta Mellark_ _! I hope you're_ _dying_ _right now. I hope you're in a cold, lonely room on your death bed drawing your last breath with no one around you._

"Gale?"

 _Hope you're dying right now_. _Hope that bullet tore your fuckin' heart apart and now you're_ —

"Gale?"

Gale shook himself together and when he saw Katniss staring at him, he realized what had happened. For the past twenty minutes, he'd been sitting there with her and though he really should have been in geography, he told her it was far more important that he check up on her and make sure she was alright. He also added that he'd gotten his work done early so he figured it was better to leave class early and come spend some time with her. His girlfriend Cashmere had even dropped by to tell Katniss how truly sorry she was to hear about Peeta, and sincerely told her she hoped he'd be alright.

 _Oh, poor Cashmere_ , thought Gale with mock sympathy. _Nice enough girl but if only she knew how I really felt about her. You think I give a shit about you, honey? Sure, you're a pretty girl and kind of funny but I don't care about you. As long as you and I stay together and Katniss sees you and me in the halls laughing and all over each other...then she'll never suspect it's all a hoax. She'll never think I'm still crazy about her. All she'll think is that I've fallen in love with a girl named Cashmere and that any previous feelings I had about her are no more. Well, that's far from the truth. Don't ever_ _stop loving me Cash, because you're the one who's making this all possible. As long as you and I stay together...then Katniss will soon be mine. Just keep doing what you're doing, sweetie. Yeah, I'm probably gonna have to break your heart sooner or later, but tough luck. It was bound to happen anyway._

Katniss hadn't spoken much to Gale but that didn't stop him from trying to keep conversations going with her. The best thing he could do was try and keep her mind occupied from what it was really concerning itself with, and that was if Peeta was okay. It made no difference to him whether she responded to his questions or not because all he cared about was showing her that he was there for her. He was acting like a shoulder for her in a time when she desperately needed a shoulder to lean on. She might not have fully realized how concerned he was for her, but he knew that she was definitely aware of the fact that Gale Hawthorne was sitting with her. Along with that, he felt confident that she knew that her best friend would do whatever he could to keep her feeling hopeful as opposed to how she felt right then which was disheartened and worried.

 _So that's what would have happened_ , thought Gale, reflecting on what had just played out in his mind. " _She would have left me. I would have just nagging and bugging her to get rid of Peeta, but it wouldn't have worked. She would have just gotten sick of me and then never want to see or hear from me again. She'd never want to see my face again._

It wasn't until Gale thought longer and harder about what he'd witnessed in his mind that he at last realized something. It hadn't clicked for him right away but now that he was aware of it, he understood all too well how perfect of a situation he'd been in from the start.

 _So the hawk was right then_ , he thought, remembering what the Mutt had told him from the very beginning. He'd emphasized to Gale that by continuing to pester and nag Katniss about considering a relationship with him, it would only ruin what solid friendship they had. It would only end up in her no longer being a part of his life and then any chance he had of getting together with her would be all but laughable.

 _So I did need its help then_ , thought Gale and was feeling suddenly lucky to have been granted such clever and cunning insight. _I would have gone and screwed up the whole thing and then I'd never a chance with her. Here I'd thought all this time I could just bugging her and eventually she'd give in and go out with me. Wow, was I stupid. She would have slipped right out of my grasp and I'd never have a chance at getting her back. Nothin' to worry about now though. I'm still her best friend, she knows I'm okay with her and Peeta being together and if this keeps up, she'll never think I'd try anything to split them apart. And why would she? I've got my own girl now, I care too much about our friendship, and I'm not even jealous anymore. I wasn't sure how right the hawk would prove to be but he sure as hell wasn't kidding Just gotta keep doing what I'm doing but other than that...it's all turning out beautifully._

It was after Katniss had told him how scared and worried she was about Peeta's condition and if he'd even make it out of surgery that Gale couldn't take it anymore. He'd been able to keep calm and not let out the anger he was truly feeling. What he instead did was let his mind reveal to him what would have happened if he had taken all his anger out on Katniss. It would have been a total and utter mess, and one that he wouldn't have been able to fix. She would have been appalled that all he cared about was them going to a movie when Peeta was in critical condition and might not even make it through the night. She would have been so enraged that she wouldn't see any reason to remain friends with him any longer and would have done the one thing he'd always feared she'd do and that was to leave him for good.

 _Good thing you didn't say that_ , _Hawthorne,_ he thought in relief. _Man, that was a close one_. _Remember: you're not glad about what's happened to Peeta. Just the opposite. You're shocked and worried that she'll lose the one guy she really cares about. You're here to let her know that you're thinking about him as well and hoping it'll all come out alright. Just keep that up and everything will fall right into place._

"You okay?" she finally asked.

He nodded and said quietly, "Yeah, I'm just...just worried about you. That's all. And Peeta."

"I know," she whispered, and he could feel the pain in her voice.

"You know what, Catnip?" said Gale.

"What?"

"I really do believe he's gonna be okay," said Gale, trying to sound encouraging. "I know I don't know him that well but from what you've told me, he's obviously a pretty strong guy, so there's no reason to doubt that he'll be able to make it through this. I don't know, I guess I just...have a feeling he is gonna make it out of that hospital. Maybe no one else does...but I do."

She lifted her head and looked into his grey eyes and asked softly, "Really?"

 _Hah!_ thought Gale in amusement, and had to keep from laughing. _Oh, you're too funny, Katniss. You really think I give a crap about your bread boy?_ _You really think I want him to walk out of that hospital alive? Give me a break! I'm tryin' to get rid of him and yet here you think I actually care about him as if he was a pal of mine. This is gonna be easier than I thought. Just like a fish on a line. Just gotta keep reeling her in_.

"I do," he answered honestly, and gave the tiniest of a smile that contained both kindness and empathy. "I really do."

There was a short pause before Katniss said appreciatively, "Thanks, Gale. It's...it's hard sitting here wondering what's happening and how he's doing. It's like I just can't stop seeing images of him sitting on a bed and all those doctors around him. It's scary. I know they're doing all they can to save him but it's...it's like I can't stop thinking about it."

"I know," said Gale gently. "Waiting's always the hardest part but what I said I meant. I really do think he's gonna pull through and be alright. He's a fighter, that guy is. Not only that, but it's amazing what doctors can do these days. They've got so much equipment in hospitals nowadays that it seems like they can help pretty much anyone." He then added in an even more heartfelt and genuine voice, "I've got no doubt in my mind that you and Peeta will be hanging out tomorrow, Katniss."

Katniss struggled to give him a smile, but she did and said, "I really hope so. It's just too hard not having him around. I see him everywhere, Gale – here, in the halls, the art room, outside, at his locker and at his bakery at home. I never thought it'd be so hard not having him around. It's...it's like this isn't even Madderson High anymore. Sitting in art class earlier just didn't feel the same. How can it feel the same when all that's next to me is an empty seat where he used to sit? It's lonely not having him there to look at my art and tell me how much I've improved and – " and here she couldn't stop the tears from escaping her eyes and the choking sound in her voice as she struggled to get out, "and I just don't know what I'm gonna do if he doesn't get through this. I _need_ him in my life."


	39. Chapter 39

**CHAPTER 39**

 **NOVEMBER**

Now that Gale had left and Katniss was alone once more, she returned her attention to her and Peeta's mask. Now that his side of it had been painted white, she was now going to get started on covering it with as much as she could – cookies, cakes, brownies, breads and everything else that went along with his chosen theme, which had been all foods that made up a bakery. She made sure to go slowly and not to rush, as she wanted to let the relaxation of decorating the mask keep her mind at ease, rather than have it in a frightened panic at what was happening to Peeta at that very second. She knew she couldn't obsess over it because it would only worsen the grief she was constantly fighting to not let consume her, so putting all her focus on completing the mask would hopefully help to relax her, even if just a little.

 _Just remember what he told me_ , she thought, and it felt like she was going head to head with her own racing, out of control mind. She hated the idea of having to battle her own mind, the single tool she so often used to help her read people's expressions, analyze situations and come to conclusions. She was now stuck in a field of battle where she had all but one enemy she had to go up against – and that was her mind. _He told me to never to rush, but to go slow and take my time. He said relaxing your mind helps relax your body, and a relaxed body lets the painting come to you. It won't come as easy to you if you're stressed...so relax._

She first painted a cookie and was pleased with how it turned out since the colors of brown and black really stood out against the pallid, ashen white. Wasting no time, she then moved on and began painting a cupcake and channelled all her focus on getting in every detail and color of the small treat. She remembered how special and unique Peeta's three cupcakes had been that day in art class, and she wanted nothing more than to paint something that would put a smile on his face. Following this, she added a chocolate brownie and dotted it with green to represent the mint chips he had so often put in them. She then painted a loaf of bread, a double-layer cake with bright pink frosting and sprinkles and the last thing she made sure to include was an orange cheese bun.

It wasn't until she was close to being done with the cheese bun that she was unexpectedly struck with a feeling of _immense_ sadness. It was just yesterday that the two had been sitting down by the lake and he had presented her with two of the delicious treats, both of which she had devoured eagerly. She had determined right then and there that though she'd only eaten two of them, she was officially addicted to the scrumptious wonder known as cheese buns. She also settled on the fact that there was only one guy in the world that could bake them so effortlessly and have each one come out perfectly warm, soft and mouth-watering – and that guy was Peeta Mellark.

She had to stop thinking about him. The longer she went on thinking about him, the more she started to fear that he could be dying at that very minute and then the hole that had punctured her once pleasant life would stay there _forever_ _._ It would never heal or wink out of existence if she kept dwelling on the odds of him not returning home to her; spending too much time pondering about it would only bring more damage to herself. She felt damaged enough already and she feared that if she brought any more damage and harm to her uneasy and restless mind, then the Katniss Everdeen she'd known for sixteen years would gone entirely.

With all that in mind, she shook herself together and picked up her brush and carefully dabbed it into a puddle of bright green. She then lifted the brush and brought it to the side of the mask that hadn't yet been painted, and that was _her_ side of the mask. Where Peeta's mask was now fully colored and about as detailed as she could have hoped for it to be, hers had yet to be done.

Her plan for decorating her side of the mask was to fill it with various mockingjays and paint them all in different colors. The birds ended up small and with delicate features but when she lit them up with dazzling colors of golden yellows, royal blues, lime greens, cherry reds and lavender purples, they looked simply beautiful. In total, it had taken her three hours to complete the mask. Since she'd had both free and lunch after art, she'd had an entire three hours to get the mask done before having to head to her last class of the day, which was math. Normally, she'd probably be capable of getting such a project both started and finished in _one_ hour, but what with how worried and distressed she was, she felt it was better to paint at a slow and leisurely pace.

She quickly dropped off the mask to Mr. Odair before leaving for math. He took the mask and after inspecting it thoroughly, he gave her a small smile and said kindly, "Peeta would love this, Katniss." She gave a sad smile in return and was about to walk off when she immediately changed her mind and looked back at him.

"Can...can I _have_ that?" she asked quietly. "I want to...to _keep_ it, in case Peeta recovers and I can show it to him and—"

"Of course," he said in understanding, and handed her the mask. "It's yours to keep. And I'm happy to tell you that this mask is wonderfully done and I'm pleased to present you with an A."

An _A_ _+._

She had been enrolled in art class for a full two months and never had she gotten an A+. She'd been rewarded with mostly B's and the occasional A's but this was the first A+ she had _ever_ received. She would have felt a great sense of achievement...if only Peeta had been there with her. It should have been the _two_ of them who had painted this mask, not Katniss alone. She was happy to have completed it for them – for the both of them – but it felt uncomfortably strange knowing that she had earned a perfect grade when Peeta _should have_ been there to witness it. But he wasn't. Instead, he was lying far off in a hospital room where surgeons were busy at work doing checks and examinations on his operated chest and the bullet that was buried deep inside. But in spite of their efforts, as if a clock were hanging over Peeta's life, death could very well take what little bit of life that he had left in him. Only time would tell but with each passing hour it felt more to Katniss like her boy with the bread was either gone already or was dangerously close to slipping out the world.

When she arrived home, all Katniss wanted was to rush up to her room, get under the covers and fall into an endless, never-ending sleep. She didn't want to be awake any longer and have to cope with the constant pain that her mind was inflicting upon her. But then again, the moment she closed her eyes and dozed off she'd just enter an even worse place than reality itself and that was the world of nightmares – a hell where anything _and_ everything was possible. Worse, there was no escape from the depths of a nightmare and once she got sucked into one, there was rarely any chance of finding her way out of it.

Hardly a word was spoken at supper. The most that was said was, "Could you pass the juice?" but aside from that, it was silent and hushed. As she ate, Katniss found the food on her plate completely lacking in taste and the blandness that was left in her mouth made her want to spit it right out. Since yesterday, nothing she'd eaten seemed to have had any taste, as if she'd been eating nothing but cardboard or paper.

About halfway through dinner, Prim gave Katniss a worried look as if to ask, "Have you heard anything about Peeta yet?" All Katniss would do was give a shake of her head and carry on eating her tasteless food. She knew the surgery was most likely already finished and that it would have lasted a few hours the previous day, but the fact that she still hadn't heard anything made her _sick_ to her stomach. If the doctors and the health team were met with good news, then surely they would have called, but she hadn't yet gotten a call and all it was doing was crushing the bit of hope she had that her boy with the bread would _survive_ and _get through this_ _._

When she looked down at the remaining food on her plate, it suddenly seemed less appetizing than ever and what she wanted now more than anything right then was to crawl into bed and stay there till morning. She excused herself, got up out of her chair and rushed up to her room. Neither her mother nor Prim tried to stop her because they knew what she wanted and that was to be _alone._

The first thing she did when she got to her room was to close the door and ensure that it was locked. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate her mother or Prim wanting to keep her company or try and keep her spirits up because she absolutely did, but there was something that _had_ to be done and all she wanted while doing it was time to herself.

She pulled out the drawer to her bedside table and took out a small photo album that was bright green in color. It was an album like the one Delly had made of Peeta and just as she and him had agreed only two days ago – the day prior to the shooting – she was going to put together an album of all the times they'd so far spent together. She'd already gotten the pictures developed from her camera and they were all now sitting on her bed ready to take their place in the empty album.

Taking a seat on her bed, she gathered up all the photos and put them in the order in which each of the events had occurred. Their first day in art class would be the opening photo, followed by: the paintings they'd done of the mockingjay pin and three cupcakes, eating lunch in the cafeteria, sitting down by the lake and admitting their love for each other, eating chocolate cake while studying for an algebra test, playing Truth or Dare at Glimmer's party, and spending another afternoon down by the lake while she sang The Hanging Tree song to him. Seven of these photos held seven memories of things she and Peeta had done together. Each was incredibly important to her and would be of even greater importance if worst came to worst and Peeta didn't make it, because these seven photos would be all she'd have to remember the time she'd spent with the boy with the bread.

It was upon realizing this that Peeta's voice was once more entering her head and whispering all the things he'd said to her during their times together. She could hear him whispering to her as she flipped through the pages of the album and the photos that were now inside of it.

 _Want to be partners?_ She could see the smile he'd given to her on their first day of art class when he'd asked her if she'd wanted to work with him. She had given him a little smile of her own and had said to him, "Okay."

 _That's a mockingjay, isn't it?_ He'd been admiring her tiny pin that was golden in color. She had nodded and went on to explain how it had been given to her by her father when she was young, and how she'd been holding onto it ever since.

 _We can have these after. We can each have two_. He'd bought them a small bag of cookies which the two had then eaten after their pizza. She'd told him his cupcakes were better and he'd then made a joke about maybe teaching Mags how to frost.

 _Girlfriend?_ He had softly whispered this to her and she could still remember the glowing red on her cheeks as she'd answered, "Girlfriend." She had then whispered to him, "Boyfriend?" and a smile had lit up his entire face as he'd whispered right back to her, "Boyfriend." That had been the official moment the two had become a couple and from then on would spend all their time together.

 _Sure it is._ _How many cakes have you seen around here that have 'Peeta and Katniss's Cake' written on them?_ After she'd laughed and commented on how unoriginal of a title it was, Peeta had made a clever and amusing comeback that she wouldn't come across many cakes with a title of 'Peeta and Katniss's Cake.'

 _I bet you anything they're going to try and make ours the worst, since we're together and all. Better get ready_. He had given her a friendly warning that their friends would most likely be the hardest on them during Truth or Dare since they were together and all and she'd given him was a bold answer of, "You bet."

 _You have no idea. The effect you can have_. He had said this to her immediately after she'd finished her singing and knowing just how much he loved hearing her sing, she'd told him she'd have to do more singing whenever they came to their special place, which was down by the lake.

When his voice had vanished and her mind was once more in silence, she then thought back to the day before he'd been shot. It had been the day where she'd been struck with an indescribable feeling of fear and dread at losing Peeta and what she would do without him. She had asked him, " _Stay with me?_ " Sensing this, Peeta had taken her gently in his arms while holding her close and had whispered a promise of, "Always." But neither of them could have ever guessed the tragic fate they'd both find themselves in the following day. It had been a fate with no chance of escape, and Peeta had known since he'd first seen the killer's gun that there was only one way to protect Katniss...and that was taking the bullet of the weapon _himself._

He was _gone_. Peeta Mellark – the boy with the bread and the boy she loved more than she'd ever know – was _gone_ _._ Instead of being there with her, he was lying on a bed in a hospital room while doctors, nurses and surgeons went about several methods and procedures to determine the physical state he was in. She _needed_ him back. Peeta having been snatched out of her life had punctured so deep and awful of a hole into her life that simple things like eating, talking and keeping her eyes from shutting were now suddenly difficult. Ever since he'd been put in that ambulance and driven off, he'd been on her mind every second and with every passing second her thoughts grew more anxious and frightened. Was he alive? If so, how was he doing? Would he recover? Was he knocking on death's door _right now_? They were all questions that she had no answers to.

The pain of missing him was too much too handle and she wasn't sure how much more of it she could take. So she did the one thing she couldn't stop herself from doing...and that was to cry. She took the album filled with the photos of her and with a shaky hand, she hurled it across the room. She didn't want to look at the pictures anymore because they only brought never-ending _despair_. She hugged her knees with her arms and tucked her head between them while sobbingat the thought that at any second she could receive a call that confirmed her worst fears – which was the _death_ of Peeta Mellark.

Out of the blue she heard a loud noise coming from her closet.

When she glanced over to see what it was, she saw something that she was actually genuinely happy to see, and that was Buttercup. The cat had been sleeping for hours on the shelf in her closet and hearing the heartbreaking sound of Katniss's howling, he'd jumped down from his resting place. He trotted out and jumped up onto her bed and walked right into her lap where he got himself comfortable. He then gave a sad meow while resting his head on her lap and all she could do was stroke his head as the tears kept coming.

"I want him back so bad," she whimpered, never taking her hand off the cat's head. "I just...I just can't stand the thought of _losing him_. _Not him_...not Peeta."

Buttercup wasn't leaving her side. He would stay with her as long as she needed. The two stayed together for an hour or two before the cat finally gave a stretch and walked up onto her pillow. He then gave a yawn and curled up into a ball, but not before giving Katniss a final glance.

"Y-you think I should try and get some sleep?" she asked tiredly, still wiping the tears from her eyes. As if in answer, the cat gave a long meow and then put its head down. She gave this a quick thought before getting under the covers and burying herself under them. She wasn't sure what tomorrow would bring and if she'd get faced with good news or bad but until that arrived...she had to try and get some rest.

Seconds before nodding off, she whispered sadly, " _Please come back to me_ _._ "


	40. Chapter 40

**CHAPTER 40**

 **NOVEMBER**

It had been a long and tiring few hours for Peeta's family as the four of them sat in the waiting room, fearing what was happening to him at that very second. Hardly a word was spoken amongst them and each of them was responding quite differently to the situation. Mr. Mellark was sitting in one of the chairs with his head in his hands while letting out an occasional snivel, while his wife had her back against the cold wall while staring only at the ground and from the way she looked, anyone might have mistaken her for a statue. His oldest brother, Luchi, was pacing around a small table with his hands behind his back and throughout the entire wait he'd circled the table close to fifty times. Finally, Peeta's other brother Rye, was sitting cross-legged on the floor with his arms crossed and his head down. Though they were all taking it hard, there was no denying the fact that Rye was by far taking it the hardest. Anyone could see that by how hunched over he looked and how more than once, he'd break out shivering as if the room was covered in snow and ice. It wasn't, of course, but with the way Rye was feeling, it felt like he was going cold from head to toe and soon his whole body would be frozen.

The moment he'd first learned that his brother had been shot, there'd been a great, painful swelling in his chest and he knew what was causing it – shame. The immense shame that'd he'd been hit with while watching his brother get lifted into the back of that ambulance and then driven off to the hospital was like the worst of a wakeup call. It had been like a punch to the head and it was then that he fully realized just how much of a jerk, pest and unbearable prick he'd been to Peeta for the past few years. _Never_ had he actually said something nice to him like, "Hey, bro! How's it goin'?" All Rye would ever say to him was, "Hey loser" or, "Do any lousy drawings lately?" Where a normal relationship would have involved them hanging out, talking and laughing, going to movies, playing video games and doing all the things most brothers that got along with each other did, that hadn't been the case with Rye and Peeta for an awfully long time.

At once, Rye's father sensed how troubled his son was feeling so without a word, he got up out of his chair and took a seat next to him. It was impossible to miss the tears in his eyes, the quivering of his body and the pained, choking sounds he made repeatedly. No one could argue that Rye Mellark was now trapped in another world and in that world he was battling an endless amount of demons – demons that not a single person knew about.

He put an arm around his son and Rye buried his face into his father's protective shoulder. Growing up, it wasn't often that Ryde had ever gone to his father in search of advice, comfort or words of guidance. For so many years he'd ignored the idea of ever considering a father-to-son conversation with his dad, and had always deemed it as being a waste of time.

Not once did he imagine that he'd eventually end up in a hospital. Never had it crossed his mind that at some point, he'd be fighting with the staggering, but frighteningly real possibility that Peeta – the brother he'd tormented year after year – might not make it out of surgery. Never had he stopped to imagine what a life without Peeta Mellark would be like.

It was the first time in seventeen years that he was now agonizing over what that life would be like.

He then asked in a choking voice, "W-what if he _doesn't_ make it?"

His father kept his arm firmly around his son, whose entire body was a shaking mess and told him shakily, "Gotta be _strong_ , son. That's what Peeta would want. He'd want you to think _positive, hopeful thoughts and nothing else."_

Rye only shook his head and let out a sound that told his father he was clearly holding back a ton of emotion. All his father could do was hold him close and let him say whatever it was he wanted to say. He, his wife and two sons would deal with whatever happened... _together. Whatever news they would be faced with and whatever heartache would be thrown onto their shoulders they would somehow get through it together._

"But what if he...what if he _doesn't_?" he whimpered. "I have to...have to tell him things. There's so much I gotta tell him and I can'tlet him die thinking that I hated him! I'd _never_ be able to forgive myself for it. I just treated him so bad and to think he might die thinking I thought he was the worst brother ever, I...I just won't be able toforgive myself for acting like that. Ever."

Mr. Mellark opened his mouth to speak, but in a grief-stricken voice, Rye snivelled, "I should have listened to him, Dad." After taking a deep breath, he told him shakily, "He was right."

"About what, Rye?" his father asked quietly, keeping his eyes on his shaken son.

"About me," said Rye, tears welling in his eyes. "He knew I wanted to be friends again. H-he could tell what I wanted but I...I pushed him away. I kept screaming in his voice and all he wanted was to help me. All he wanted was to have me as a friend again, for us to be friends again and I—" and he couldn't control the painful gasping sound that worked its way up and out of his throat as he sniffled, "All he wanted was to try and make me happy again! He just wanted our friendship back!"

All his father could say to this was, "Let's hope for the best, son. All we can do right now..."

After that, it felt like time was passing by incredibly slowly, and Luchi had to even check the clock on the wall to ensure the hands were still moving. They were, and it wasn't a surprise to any of them, but their heads and hearts were aching so badly that everything around them felt as if it were slowing down. All Rye wanted was to barge into the operating room and see how Peeta was doing, but he knew there was no chance of that happening, so he remained sitting with his head between his legs. He wanted to block out every sound and person around him and just let himself get lost in his thoughts while he came up with a decent apology to present his brother with. But he only wanted to punch the wall in anger and grief when he realized he could _never_ , not in a million years come up with an apology that could even begin to explain to Peeta how sorry he was. It was Peeta who had always been so natural and clever with words; but finding the right words had always been a challenge for him. But despite that, he was determined to search every part of his mind to come up with what he hoped would be seen from Peeta as a genuinely truthful apology for how he'd acted over the years.

But what prevented him from coming up with an apology was his own spiteful voice that replayed all the nasty things he'd said to his brother over the years. Sitting there and listening to himself speak, it was then that he fully understood just how uncaring and despicably horrid he'd been to his younger brother.

 _You little wuss! When are ya gonna grow up and accept that she doesn't care about you!_

 _What did we paint today, Loser? Another picture of the girl we love but will never get to be with? What a joke._

 _Still painting those cupcakes with lameass sprinkles of hearts and smiles? What are you, a girl!?_

 _Poor Peeta will never live up to anything. He'll just spend the rest of his stupid little life painting cupcakes and baking bread and dreaming of a girl who doesn't even know him. Lame...lame...fuckin' lame._

 _Why_ _was I_ _such_ _an_ _asshole_? he thought miserably. _Why did I have to treat him like that_? _What the hell was wrong with me_ _to have been like that to him_? _Here I had the nicest brother in the world...and I treated him like crap_. _He's the best brother in the world...and I'm the worst._

His brother Luchi took a seat next to him, put an arm around Rye and said in as hopeful of a voice as he could offer, which wasn't much, "Come on, man. Peeta's gonna be fine. They're gonna fix him up, get him all better and then he'll come right back home."

"You can't _promise_ that, though," Rye whispered sadly. _No one can._

"No," Luchi admitted, staring Rye right in the eye. "But as long as those doctors are in there working on him, there's _hope_ , right?"

"I guess," said Rye, not sounding very convinced. "I just...I just need to apologize to him—" and here a strained, gasping sort of sound escaped his lips, and it was clear he'd been doing all he could to keep it boggled up inside him. His father had seen it and Luchi could see just as plainly how broken Rye was feeling right now.

"I know," said Luchi softly. "I wasn't the best brother to him, either. I had my moments where I'd—"

"But you weren't even _half_ as bad as _I_ was!" said Rye wretchedly. "I was the one that was always pushing him around and treating him like crap! You hardly ever said a word to him but here I never left him alone. I was the worst brother anyone could have had and now I might _never_ get to tell him how sorry I am. He's gonna go to his grave and think that I spent my whole life hating him and thinking he was nothing but a loser. He didn't deserve _anything_ I said or did to him, but yet I _still_ did it. At least you didn't call him all the names I did, or hit him and kick him and treat him like he was worthless."

"Exactly," said Luchi in a trance, staring up at the ceiling. "I barely said a word to him. I spent so long ignoring him. I never stopped to ask how his day was, or if he wanted to hang out or help me out with the cakes or...or anything. I just never took the time to talk to him. I was always so caught up in my own life. Only cared about myself and what I was doing. I-I treated him like he was a...a ghost."

He paused only briefly before adding, "At least you talked to him and—"

"No," said Rye in a pained voice. "I never talked to him, not in the normal sense. I teased him. Mocked him. Laughed at him. Called him name after name and then still I never stopped. I should have, but I didn't. That's not how brothers talk to each other, Luchi. I shouldn't have—"

But Rye stopped halfway through his sentence. It was like the words had left him and he no longer remembered what he'd been going to say. He then made a small choking sound as if some huge lump was forcing its way up his throat and was fighting to get out. Whether in fact there was a lump stuck in his throat, he wasn't sure of but it certainly felt like it. He only wished the pain of it sitting in his throat would vanish, but he knew it wouldn't be leaving any time soon.

Then, in a shaky and traumatized voice, he managed to get out, "I was a monster."

"Rye, you weren't—"

"I was, Luchi!" he argued, and suddenly felt his hands starting to shake out of anger and fear. _That's all I ever was to him. I wasn't a brother...I was a monster._ "You saw how I acted. You heard everything. You were there! Don't try and ignore what I was. You're one of the few people that know just how bad I was. Maybe you never said anything but you saw it all."

Rye pressed his head against his trembling knees and said weakly as if all the voice was draining out of him, second by second, "I can't forgive myself if he doesn't get an apology. I swear...I'll just never forgive myself." He snivelled, and said more to himself than to his brother, "How could I?"

Luchi only nodded, let a tear fall from his eye and said quietly, "Then let's just pray he can make it through this."

After a short pause that felt like a lifetime for both of them, Rye said quietly, "Luchi?"

"Yeah?" said his brother, and his voice was just as quiet.

"Last night," said Rye, and his eyes were glued to the floor. "The night before this happened, there was something I said to Peeta." He took a moment to force yet another uncomfortable lump down his throat before continuing, "Now that I think back on it, I can't even believe I said it. At the time, I wasn't really thinking of anything. I was just saying what came to mind but my god...I can't believe I said that to him. It was the worst thing I could have ever said to him."

Luchi watched him carefully and before he had time to speak, Rye revealed what he'd said to Peeta the previous night.

"I...I told him to go and get himself killed," cried Rye, shoving his face into his trembling hands. "I told him he wasn't wanted at home and that nobody would care if something happened to him. I said that! I said he'd do the world a favour by going and doing that and look where he is! Look what happened! He's in a hospital room having surgery and we don't even know if he's gonna make it!"

He shook his head, wrapped his arms around his legs and said miserably, "It's my fault he's in there right now."

"Rye, don't say that," said Luchi with dead seriousness. He put a hand on Rye's shoulder, gave it a firm squeeze and said, "Don't even say that. You know that's not true. None of this is your fault so don't even think that for a second, okay?"

"But I told him to go and get himself killed!" whined Rye. "You don't get it Luchi! If he doesn't make it out of this, he'll have died thinking I hated him! The last thought he'll have had of me is that I wanted him gone and out of my life! He asked me so many times that night if we could be friends again but I kept telling him no! Even when he saw me looking through the album of when we were kids and he saw tears in my eyes, I still didn't change. He wanted me to say yes so badly, Luchi. Now that I think about it, it...it's killing me. The look on his face when I said I wouldn't be friends with him again, I...I'm never gonna forget that. I swear, it was like all he wanted was to stand there and cry but then he went back up to his room. All he wanted was for us to be friends again, but I shoved it right back in his face."

"And I ignored him," Luchi added, and felt his lips starting to quiver out of growing anger. "He saw me and tried talking to me and what did I do? Said hi and kept on walking. That's all I ever said to Peeta growing up. A few words and that was it. Here I could see how upset he was but still it was like I...was too caught up in my own life. I...I was so selfish that I couldn't even take a few minutes to ask him what was wrong or if he wanted someone to talk to. I just never even bothered."

"He didn't deserve this," said Rye in that same anguished voice. "He didn't deserve any of this." He paused for a moment before telling Luchi in rising distress, "He shouldn't be in a hospital fighting for his life! He should be home, baking and painting and...and he and I should be friends again and none of this should even be happening!"

Luchi said nothing at first. He took in Rye's words, nodded silently and said numbly, "He's gonna be okay, Rye. He will. I just have this gut feeling that he's gonna make it through this surgery and then he'll be coming home."

"That doesn't mean he will though," said Rye, more to himself than to Luchi.

Suddenly, a woman was approaching them and the four had only to look at her once to know right away she was a nurse. She was dressed all in white and was holding a clipboard with a variety of papers containing numbers, data, comments and other imperative information regarding her patient. Right away – as soon as she left the operating room and stepped out into the hall – she could sense the worry and anxiety this family was experiencing. Before she even reached the waiting room where she could look them all in the eye, she'd immediately sensed that a vast amount of fear and dread was present in the air. It was entering the room that she understood just how stressed of an atmosphere it was and she knew it wouldn't be calmed till this family was given the news they'd been so anxiously waiting for.

Mr. Mellark was the first to notice her walking towards them. He lifted his head, searched the nurse's face for what he hoped would be a relieved expression, but that wasn't what he saw. There was no hint of a smile on her lips, no gleam in her eye that implied she had good news and her body looked stiff and rigid, suggesting that something was troubling her.

The fact that she hadn't yet spoken disturbed him. Normally, if a nurse was carrying good news, then they'd be all too quick to inform families of this, but she'd entered the room quietly and without a word. For some time, she did nothing but look to each one of them and then back to her clipboard as if not wanting to speak.

Mr. Mellark made eye contact with the nurse, and asked nervously, "H-how is he?"

Nurse Portia dropped her gaze, bit her lip and hesitated to answer. This confirmed everyone's fears and that was that she hadn't arrived with encouraging news.

Portia took a breath and told them directly and honestly, but with much sympathy in her voice, "Not good."

Hearing this was like having a series of bombs exploding on their bodies. One could never be quite sure what kind of news a nurse would have to give families, but most held up their hopes for nothing but good news. It was too frightening to have to consider that unfortunate news might be all a nurse had to offer, but for the Mellarks, that was all Portia had. Just like with any other family, she hoped to be able to walk out, present them with the news they desperately wanted to hear, but reality was that good news wasn't always what she had to give.

With tears in his eye, Mr. Mellark said nervously, "What do you mean?"

"It's complicated," said Portia, giving a brief glance to her notes. "But with what we've observed so far with his surgery, Peeta isn't doing well. Throughout the process, there've been times where he seemed to be doing well and we were all under the impression that he would successfully make it out of this. But for the past twenty minutes, his heart rate has been slowing and his blood pressure has dropped and with all these signs combined, it's not looking good. Usually, patients will maintain a steady heart rate during procedures, but Peeta's has been beating abnormally and it hasn't returned to a normal rate. The fact that his heart rate has been dropping considerably is enough to imply to us that it's not looking good."

There was silence for the longest time. No one said a word and even if they tried, they would have found that their throats had gone dry. All they could obsess over was what this nurse was telling them. _It's not looking good. Peeta isn't doing well._ The four of them found themselves unable to move, speak, think or even breathe. It was like the nurse's words had forced them into another world, one that was filled with despair, horror and endless fear.

Rye watched the nurse worriedly and said shakily, "B-but he's gonna be okay, right?"

"I'm sorry, Rye," she said softly, with much empathy in her voice. "But we can't make any promises."

"So it's not looking good then?" said Mr. Mellark with a hollow, empty voice. He was now in a state of horrible shock and it was like nothing he'd ever experienced.

The nurse looked once more to Peeta's father and said honestly, "I hate to have to say this but...no, it's not. We've done these procedures plenty of times and most patients have gone into and left surgery with no major difficulties. We were all hoping this would be the same with Peeta but what with how things have been unfolding, this doesn't appear to be the case."

Mr. Mellark nodded and took a minute to emotionally prepare himself for what he was about to ask next. He took a few breaths, put his hands together and focused all his attention on getting these next few words out. No matter how unbearably painful it was, regardless, it had to be asked.

"What would you say his chances are for...for surviving?" he asked, and the words sounded like thunder in his head. "Based on what you've seen so far, what would you say his chances are for...getting through the rest of the surgery?"

It felt like a lifetime before they were at last given an answer but when they heard what this nurse had to say, it was like every bit of hope they'd been clutching onto was shattered. The moment they'd arrived at the hospital, they'd fought through all the fear and doubts by holding onto whatever ounce of hope they could. In life and death situations, the most anyone could do was stay hopeful and think positive thoughts till it was all over and families had returned home. The small amount of hope they'd held onto, however, was seconds away from getting smashed into a hundred pieces.

"Our calculations tell us," said Portia, and it was clear she was having trouble getting the words themselves out. But as a nurse, it was her job to keep them informed on the situation and how things were progressing, and whether she had good news or bad news, she had to keep them notified. "That Peeta has about a twenty-five percent chance of surviving the rest of the surgery."

"S-so there's a seventy-five percent change he...he won't make it?" said Mr. Mellark, whose hopes had been instantly crushed.

Portia nodded, and told him softly, "I'm so sorry." Despite the fact that she'd said these same words multiple times to families and patients, it never became any easier.

Rye shook his head and argued with emotion, "N-no! T-that can't be right. Peeta's a strong guy. He's gonna survive this!"

"I understand how difficult waiting is—" said Portia, but it was like her words went in one ear and out the other for Rye, who cut her off at once.

"No!" said Rye, refusing to believe what he'd just been told. "I don't believe it! Peeta's going to survive this! He's stronger than Luchi and I combined! You don't know him like we do. It might look bad now but he...he'll make it. He will! Just because it seems like he's not going to make it doesn't mean that's what's gonna happen!"

"I understand you're—" said Portia, but she didn't have time to go on before Rye cut her off.

"No!" he shouted, and it felt like every part of his body was on fire. "I don't care what you say! He's gonna get through this! You're gonna fix him up and he's gonna come home with us!" He was now breathing so hard that even if he wanted to keep talking, he couldn't. It was like he physically couldn't go on speaking because it was too exhausting, and he was already feeling beyond tired. He knew his heart wanted nothing more than to release all the anxiety that was boggled up inside, but his body felt like it was getting drained of all its strength the longer he went on shouting.

Portia nodded and said sympathetically, "I know this is overwhelming, all the waiting and wondering but there's something important to remember in all of this."

"What's that?" asked Luchi, his mind racing.

"Never lose hope," was her simple, but obvious answer. "I know it's scary hearing what we have to say but a seventy-five percent chance of death doesn't guarantee that's how things will turn out. As long as he has a twenty-five percent chance of survival, it means there's still hope, and still a chance that he'll make it."

"Maybe..." said Rye uneasily. He wanted to believe in what this nurse was saying, but he knew his hope was gone and there was no chance he'd be getting it back. "But it seems like every time there's a small chance for survival, no one ever makes it." He couldn't go on talking. He buried his face in his hands and let the pain and sorrow swallow him up. He was tired of talking and wished all this torture – the waiting, wondering and having to listen to the Nurse's words – would just leave them.

"So that's it then?" said Mr. Mellark quietly, staring at the floor. "A twenty-five percent chance of survival and a seventy-five percent chance of...of him dying?"

With a nod, Portia said with compassion, "I know things seem bleak right now, but know that we're going to do everything possible to help Peeta get through the rest of this surgery but—"

"So what you're saying is that—" but it was like Mrs. Mellark was unable to finish the sentence.

"I'm just saying you might want to prepare yourselves for the probability that he might not make it through this operation," said Portia softly.

Before leaving, she gave them a final, "I'm sorry," and then turned and made her way back towards the operating room. Like her, Dr. Aurelius and the other members of his team felt just as surely how things were going to turn out in terms of Peeta's surgery. From what they had observed with his breathing, heart rate, blood pressure and brain activity, all the signs were staring them right in the face. They were signs every doctor and nurse hated to have to acknowledge and ultimately accept, but there was no disregarding them either.

"It's over then," said Rye in shock. It wasn't till Portia had left them that the full weight of her words had hit him, and he was now registering exactly what she'd meant. "He's been in there for hours and they just told us he's not gonna make it."

"We don't know that's what's gonna happen," said Luchi, doing his best to remain positive, though he himself was rapidly falling apart. His father was lost in his own world of darkness and his mother was doing nothing but staring up at the ceiling as if she'd been hypnotized. Someone had to try and bring hope back to their situation, and he knew the only person who might be able to do that was him.

"Didn't you hear her?" cried Rye. "She said he's got a seventy-five percent chance of dying! Seventy-five percent chance, Luchi! I know they say to not lose hope, but that's pretty hard not to do when they come in and tell you that. She pretty much told us that Peeta's not gonna make it!"

"Come on, man," said Luchi, putting an arm around his brother. "You said yourself, Peeta's gonna be fine. I know it looks bad, but it's not over yet. And I doubt Peeta's done yet either. Maybe you don't agree, but I have the feeling he's in there right now still fighting."

"She said they almost lost him!" Rye exclaimed, and his eyes had grown to the size of marbles. "She didn't give us a whole lot to hang onto, Luchi! She gave us news, but not the kind we wanted. You can think whatever you want but she pretty much told us what we didn't want to hear."

He rubbed his face tiredly, looked over at Luchi and said in defeat, "It's done, Luchi."

"Rye, it's not done!" he said firmly. "We can't give up on Peeta like this! Dad said we gotta stay hopeful."

"Yeah?" said Rye, tears trickling down his aching cheeks. "Well that's pretty hard to do when the nurse comes in and tells you he's got a twenty-five percent chance of surviving!"

Luchi didn't respond. He went on staring at Rye for the longest time, then returned his attention to his feet on the ground. They felt so much like bricks and he feared if he sat there any longer, he'd be unable to get up and leave the hospital once Peeta's surgery was complete. He envisioned himself glued to the floor with his eyes still staring blankly ahead, wondering how his brother was doing and if his chance for survival was decreasing.

"I gotta go," said Rye abruptly. He shakily got to his feet and took a moment to balance himself while staring down the long hallway that appeared to go on forever. He then began walking but found his feet were giving him troubles. It was like he'd forgotten how to walk and he wondered if he'd even make it to where he needed to go.

"Where're you going?" said Luchi quickly.

"Bathroom," was all Rye said.

He figured the bathroom couldn't be far, so he kept his eyes forward and carried on walking. He came close to tripping at one point but somehow managed to stay on his feet. He passed room after room and it got to the point where his vision was becoming blurry and he had a hard time identifying things. He could barely make out the numbers on the doors, doctors and nurses that passed by looked more like transparent ghosts rather than living people. He shook his head though and kept on walking and within a few minutes, he'd reached the bathroom.

As if in a rush, he hurried inside and pushed his body up against the door. He took a deep breath, exhaled and lifted his head, though it felt like it weighed close to a hundred pounds. The lights above him were shining directly in his eyes and even when he covered his face, it did no good. He dropped his hands from his head and hobbled over to one of the bathroom stalls. He might not have been suffering from a broken leg or a limp, but his legs felt like they'd died hours ago as if all circulation had been cut off completely. Each step he took he felt like he'd fall at any second and even if he rose to his feet and began again, he knew he'd just fall right back down again.

Once in the stall, he closed the door, locked it, and like he'd done when he'd first entered the bathroom, pushed his body up against the door. He had to be alone, even if it was just for a few minutes. It was watching the nurse leaving to go back to the room – the place where Peeta was currently being operated in – that he'd fallen apart. Up until then, he hadn't held out much hope, but his father and Luchi had done all they could for him, and to remind him that as Peeta's family, they had to remain as hopeful as they could. He'd certainly tried and despite how painful it had been, he'd tried nonetheless.

But then the nurse had come to them and given them news that tore apart any bit of hope he'd been clinging onto. It was gone, vanished and there'd be no getting it back. After having just been told the odds of his brother leaving this hospital alive were terribly slim, it was impossible to have even the tiniest bit of hope. A seventy-five percent chance of death compared to a twenty-five percent chance of survival was unspeakably devastating. Had the nurse said that Peeta had a fifty-fifty chance at surviving, his hopes might have returned. That was a completely different scenario, and one that families could find more hope in while awaiting to hear from the doctor.

Peeta's chance for survival wasn't fifty-fifty, though. It was a distressing twenty-five percent, and the way Rye saw it, it was pretty well a smack in the face that said, 'there's no hope for your brother.' It was the worst sort of news a family could receive. It was a kind of pain Rye had never experienced but it was eating away at all his emotions and he couldn't bear to fight against it any longer. It was easier to just let the pain consume him and not try and boggle it up inside. There was no point in doing that anyway because he knew it would just break its way out and then he'd be forced to endure the pain that would destroy his and tear apart his sanity one section at a time.

He couldn't remain standing. The stinging, uncomfortable sensation in his leg was only worsening and soon, he knew they'd give out on him completely. He had no choice but to slide his way down to the cold, hard floor where he wrapped his arms around his quivering legs. He then forced his head in between his legs, closed his eyes and thought back to the last words he'd said to his brother.

" _Why don't you go and get yourself killed? You sure as hell aren't wanted in this house, so why bother stay here? What's the point? You really should go and do that, you know. I don't care what happens to you. Doesn't matter to me what happens. Just go and get the hell out of my life because I don't want you in it anymore! I want you to vanish. Don't even care where you go or what happens to you. Just get the hell out of my life!"_

Then came Peeta's voice – sounding more like an eerie whisper than his normal tone – and the unmistakable sadness in it was just as obvious as Rye remembered.

" _I hope you don't mean that."_

" _Oh don't worry...I do."_

"Why did I say that?" cried Rye in a choking voice, and all he wanted was for the world to swallow him up and not spit him back out ever again.

Knowing he had said something so unbelievably cruel to Peeta – a brother who'd never given him a hard time, judged him, abused him or set out to make his life miserable – he knew it would haunt him every day for the rest of his life. It was one thing to forgive oneself and he wasn't entirely sure if he'd ever truly forgive himself, but it was a completely different thing to forget. How could he ever force those heartless words out of his mind and go on living as if he'd never spoken them. He knew the answer to that, and that was that he couldn't. Half the battle would be forgiving himself for having ever said something so harsh to his brother, but if he wouldn't be able to put those words out of his mind, the battle would be lost.

"I was a monster," he murmured, still hugging his legs. "All Peeta wanted was to help me and I...I pushed him away." He took a deep breath, fought against the forming pain in his throat and whimpered, "I pushed away one of the few people that actually cares about me. He cared about me, wanted to help me...and I told him to g-go get himself killed."

The words felt like stones in his heart. _I told him to go get himself killed._

The more he went on repeating the phrase, the more his head was starting to throb. He had no control over what his body did, and he had even less control over his emotions, so he gave up trying to fight it. It was too much effort to struggle against it, so he let the guilt wash over him and within seconds he'd broken down crying. He cried harder than he'd ever remembered crying all throughout his life. He cried so hard that he began having trouble breathing, and even when he took deep, mouthfuls of air, he still felt like he'd suffocate at the drop of a hat. The tears fell out of his eyes like rivers and soon his nose began running and he had to keep on blowing it and blowing it. His body shivered as if it was winter; a hollering sound was ringing in his ears; he couldn't feel his feet on the floor, and the never-ending tears were beginning to sting in his eyes, feeling more like needles than teardrops.

After he'd sobbed to the point where both his mind and body were numb, he went back to wrapping his arms around his legs and placing his head between them. Once again, he was back in the world of darkness – the world he'd kept Peeta locked in for so many years – where he could see only the horrid things he'd said and done to his brother.

He couldn't lift his eyes to look at anything, not even the ceiling above him. All he could do was keep his head in between his legs and stare only at the blackness offered by his closed eyes. He was so emotionally drained and crushed that he needed some time to let the river of guilt inside him pour out and into the open. What he really wanted more than anything else was to stay in this bathroom stall for days and not come out to face the cruelties of the world. If he stayed locked up in this tiny stall, he could battle against his own demons and not have to be told more news that would only add to the incredible grief he was already suffering from.

In the darkness of his mind, he pictured Peeta on one of the hospital beds and surrounding him were a number of nurses and doctors. He couldn't make out the details of their conversation and what they were saying, but he knew they were discussing their patient's progression. He didn't have long to observe what they were doing though because he was now staring at his brother's face. There was Peeta, out cold and dead to the world as a team of medical experts worked nonstop on removing the bullet from the lung in his chest. Rye screamed and hollered for his brother to wake up and reassure him that he was going to be alright and that he didn't have to worry. But he didn't. He was like a lifeless statue now and as he watched these men and women operating on him, he couldn't help wonder if Peeta's eyes would ever see the light of another day.

"I'm sorry, Peeta," he whispered wretchedly.

Tears slid down his cheeks and soon the floor beneath him was wet from his tears. He wiped his eyes as best he could but it was pointless because the second he dried his eyes, they were filling with tears all over again. It was a never-ending cycle where tears would fall, he'd wipe them clean and all too quickly his eyes would start watering and generating more tears. His nose then began running and he must have used up almost a whole roll of toilet paper without even noticing. Like with his tears, it made no difference how much he blew his nose; it just kept on running and feeling stuffy to the point where he thought he was getting sick. There was no stopping how his body was reacting and along with that, there was even less chance of stopping his own unpleasant voice from shrieking like a banshee – wild, piercing and untamed – in his pounding head. He didn't want to hear all the horrid things he'd said to his little brother over the years but it was like they demanded to be heard once more and before he knew it, his mind was overflowing with countless slurs and insults.

" _You're in for it loser!"_

" _How about I make things clear for you? Stay out of my room!"_

" _Just leave me alone!"_

" _Get lost."_

Hearing these words repeat themselves in his mind was like having a hundred needles jabbing at his head where each one was sharp as a knife. Now that he thought back on all the things he'd said to his brother, he couldn't believe how he'd acted. He wanted so badly to wake up and find the monster he'd been to Peeta had been all but a nasty dream, but it was reality. How he'd treated his brother had been real and everything he'd said to him – all the countless insults that he'd thrown at him – had been just as real. It was unfortunate and he wished there was some way he could erase all that he'd said and done, but that was impractical. It was part of the past and no matter how painful it was, there was no changing the past.

 _I don't know if you can hear me right now_ _Peeta_ , thought Rye, wishing he could somehow channel his thoughts directly to Peeta and let him know how badly he wanted to speak with him. _But if you can,_ _I want you to know how sorry I am. There's so much I want to tell you, and the thought of not getting the chance to tell you it all scares me. The idea of you not surviving this is horrible enough but thinking that my last words to you were to go and kill yourself, it...it's killing me, Peeta. If you can hear me, please know I'm waiting for you to come back. To me, Luchi, and to Mom and Dad. I swear, Peeta, I'd...I'd give anything to have you back._

He swallowed, felt the wetness of more tears sliding down his cheeks and said quietly, "Please come home, Peeta. We can't go home without you."

Rye remained sitting in the bathroom stall for at least twenty minutes. What with how distraught and panic-stricken he was feeling, it really felt like he'd been there for at least an hour. In those twenty minutes, he'd done nothing but sit on the hard floor with his arms wrapped around his legs. His eyes hadn't left the ground under his feet and it didn't matter if someone came in because he was now trapped in another world and nobody was going to make him leave that stall.

After about ten minutes, he became torn as to what he should do. He could either keep sitting on the floor in this tiny stall, or he could return to his family who were just as fearful and stressed as he was. He knew the surgery wouldn't be finished for at least another hour, so the worrying wouldn't be over till the sixty minutes was up. He wished time would go faster so they could be told if Peeta made out okay, but at the same time he hoped time would go by slowly. He was so truly frightened at what the doctors and nurses might come back with and if it was bad news like before, then he'd go off the deep end for sure.

It was five minutes before he decided to head back to his family that he lost it. Up till then, he'd been doing pretty badly but for some reason, he was now losing it worse than ever. He found that when he rose from the ground and stood on his feet, the world closed in on him and he had to lean on the bathroom wall for support for fear of collapsing. That then led to a feeling of light-headedness and though he wasn't moving or walking about, his head became dizzy. The sinks to his right soon appeared blurry and out of focus as if he was slowly but surely going blind. Above him, the glaring lights shone brighter than ever and once more he was forced to cover his eyes. What with everything he was experiencing, he knew what was happening.

The fear of losing his brother was proving too much for him to handle.

He hadn't realized how out of control his emotions were till he felt his head screaming out in panic. His entire body could sense the worries on his mind and all he could do was keep his hands on the bathroom wall and hope he'd stay conscious. But he knew he wouldn't be alone if he blacked out and hit the tiled floor though because Luchi knew where he'd went. He wouldn't waste a second to hurry to the bathroom to see how his brother was doing, and why he hadn't yet gone back to the waiting room.

As if to confirm that he was indeed in a state of sheer panic, he felt something rising in his throat. It was so sudden and out of the blue that he didn't have time to wonder what it could be. All he was aware of was something large and unpleasant forcing its way up his throat. A few seconds was all it took for it to reach his mouth and it was then that he understood what it was. At that exact moment, he heard the nurse's voice re-entering his mind and her words felt more painful than ever.

" _Our calculations tell us that Peeta has about a twenty-five percent chance of surviving the rest of the surgery_. _"_

As quickly as he could, Rye rushed into the nearest stall, got down on his knees, placed both hands on either side of the toilet, positioned his head over it...and vomited. He'd only thrown up a few times throughout his life – maybe three or four times – but the few times he had, he'd remembered how truly uncomfortable it was. It left him breathless, wobbly and fearful for when the next lump would climb up his throat and demand to be let out.

This time proved just as uncomfortable. His head began throbbing; he found himself short of breath as if he was no longer able to breathe in oxygen; his entire body began shivering, and his heart felt like it might burst out of his chest.

" _The fact that his heart rate has been dropping considerably is enough to imply to us that it's not looking good."_

After a few deep breaths, he lifted his head, swallowed and exhaled. It felt like the rising lump in his throat had vanished and he was about to get up and leave when he was forced to place his head once more over the toilet. After vomiting a second time and now feeling dizzier than ever, he hoped it was the end of it, but it wasn't. He suffered a third and final round of this torture and when at last it was over and he felt so weak and vulnerable, he gave in to this feeling of weakness and fell to the floor.

" _A twenty-five percent chance of surviving the rest of the surgery."_

The walls were closing in on him and the floor was feeling unusually cold. He shifted his eyes to where his hands were and flexed his fingers. They looked so out of focus and hazy and he knew that couldn't be good. With the dizziness in his head, the rapid thumping of his heart and the shakiness in his arms and legs, he knew he was falling apart. But he had to keep it together long enough to hear the outcome of his brother's surgery. He was petrified at what might be occurring in the operating room at that very minute. Had Peeta's heart stopped beating? Was he knocking on deaths door right then? Was there still the chance he might possibly pull through this and survive?

Rye had no answers to any of these questions. There was only one person who would provide him with those answers, and that was the doctor. It would still be a bit of time before the surgery came to an end, and until then, it would be nothing but more stressful waiting for him and his family. It would be more sitting with one's back against the wall, circling the round table in front of them repeatedly, snivelling and wiping one's eyes and staring at the blank, white walls surrounding them.

Using all the strength he could, he rose to his feet and made his way out of the bathroom. When he glanced to his left, he saw a nurse with a clipboard heading his way. A quick glance to his right and he saw the identical thing – a nurse heading down the hall towards one of the closed doors with a clipboard in her hand. There was no questioning those at the Bernick Hospital worked remarkably hard.

It didn't take long for him to walk down the length of the hall. Before he knew it, he was once again sitting with his back against the wall in the waiting room, rejoined with his family.

"You okay?" Luchi asked with concern.

"No," said Rye honestly. He'd only been sitting there for ten minutes but he felt like all the energy had been sucked out of his body, and he was now more worn-out and exhausted than ever.

"Here," said Luchi, handing his brother a glass of water. "Drink this."

"I'm not thirsty."

"Come on, man," Luchi insisted, holding it in front of him. "You gotta drink something."

Rye stared at the water as if it was the last thing in the world he wanted. He reached out, took the glass and reluctantly brought it to his lips. He took the tiniest sip, swallowed and then went on to drink the rest of it. He hadn't expected the fresh, cool water to feel so good sliding down his dry throat. During his time in the bathroom, he'd done a lot of coughing that had left his throat sore and aching, but this water was helping to eliminate any bit of remaining soreness.

He gulped down the rest of the water, but something in his throat went wrong. Either he'd drank it too fast or his throat was telling him it had been given enough, it didn't matter. All he knew was that he was met with a sudden, unpleasant sensation that caused him to sputter and spit out the rest of it. He coughed a few times, wiped his mouth clean with his sleeve and set the now empty glass back on the table.

"Thanks," said Rye, and returned to wrapping his arms around his legs. He felt thankful that his throat was feeling slightly better, and was appreciative of his brother's company.

"I wish we could see how he's doing," said Luchi, who was running his fingers along the laces of his shoes in the same, continuous pattern.

"I don't," said Rye tiredly. "I don't think I'd be able to stand there and watch a bunch of people operating on Peeta's chest. I wouldn't be able to handle it. When we first got here, I thought I wanted to be able to see how he's doing but hearing what the nurse said to us, I...I really don't want to."

Luchi nodded and said softly, "It's gonna be okay, Rye."

"Maybe," said Rye unenthusiastically.

There was a brief pause, and then Rye said, "Luchi?"

"Yeah?"

"D-do you think Peeta knows I'm sorry?" He added quickly, "I-I know he's in surgery and all and isn't aware of what's happening but do you think he knows I didn't mean what I said to him that night? About wanting him to go get himself killed?"

"I bet you anything he does," said Luchi truthfully. "And even when you told him that night, he might have known then that you didn't mean what you said."

Rye frowned and said gloomily, "I don't know. You weren't there with us. You didn't hear how I said it to him. I hit him so hard with it and even when he told me he hoped I didn't mean it...I told him I did."

"Hey," said Luchi, putting his hand on Rye's shoulder. In a concerned, gentle voice he told his brother, "Don't beat yourself up over it, Rye. You can't. I know it's hard thinking back on it, but you gotta remember that's in the past now and it can't be changed. There's no point giving yourself a hard time about it. You gotta look ahead and know that when Peeta gets through this, you'll be able to tell him everything."

"If he gets through this," said Rye, burying his face into his hands.

"Come on man," said Luchi, rubbing his brother's shoulder. "He's gonna be alright."

"I don't know," said Rye shakily. "What if he—"

"He's gonna be alright," Luchi repeated.

Rye took a breath and went on uneasily, "Twenty-five percent chance of surviving isn't good. That means he could be dying right now. What if he's dead already? What if the doctor's on his way right now to tell us that Peeta's—"

Luchi placed both hands on his brother's shoulders, looked him squarely in the eye and said firmly, "Rye!"

Rye blinked, turned his head to look at his brother and gradually began to feel his body relaxing, if only slightly. His head still felt like it was getting struck by a hammer, his legs were still quivering because of how frightened he was and his headache hadn't yet left him, but he was slowly beginning to calm down.

"I know it's scary," Luchi told him, fighting to keep his voice from cracking. He had to be strong for his little brother though. Out of the four of them – himself, his mother, his father and Rye – there was no questioning that Rye was having the most trouble coping with the situation. He was barely keeping it together and Luchi knew he had to gather up whatever strength was inside him and do what he could for his younger brother. "And I know what the nurse told us doesn't sound like it'll end good, but we don't know what'll happen. All we can do right now is sit here, wait and hope that Peeta gets through this."

Five minutes later, Luchi put his head back against the wall and gazed up at the ceiling. Rye watched him carefully, as if wanting to know just what exactly was racing through his older brother's mind.

"You know what?"

"What?" asked Rye quietly.

"I really do think Peeta's gonna make it. I just have this gut feeling he's gonna be okay. It...it's there. I can feel it."

Rye turned to his left and glanced up nervously at the clock. It was still ticking away and when he read what time it was, he wanted to faint. There was exactly ten minutes left of the surgery which meant in a short amount of time, a doctor would be on their way to inform them if Peeta had survived the operation. It felt like just minutes ago when he'd been sitting by himself in the bathroom stall, hoping that time would go by faster but with less than ten minutes left, he began panicking all over again. The fears, worries and images of his brother's lifeless body on a hospital bed were reappearing. However this situation turned out – whether that was for the best or the worst – either way, it would soon come to an end, and every question would be answered.

"I hope so," said Rye, his voice barely audible. _My god, I hope you're right..._

When the long hours of waiting in fear and angst had passed, they were finally met with the sight of Dr. Aurelius making his way towards them. Unlike Nurse Portia, he wasn't holding a clipboard in his arm and this alone told them that the surgery was indeed over. There were no more notes to keep track of, no numbers to analyze, no changes in functioning to report and nothing to interpret.

At once, all of them got to their feet and locked their eyes on the man who would reveal to them the condition that Peeta was in. The past ten minutes had gone by frighteningly fast and now that the ultimate moment was here – the moment where it would all come to an end – they weren't sure what to think. They were trapped in a cloud of emotions that swirled and merged together, leaving the four of them in a state of sheer anxiety.

The desperation in the faces of families was never an easy thing to see, and every doctor and nurse agreed on this. To have to keep people waiting for such long periods of time, to have to leave them stranded in the dark while their loved one remained entirely in their hands was always difficult. What made it especially difficult was when the doctor returned for the final time and provided families with the news they'd been waiting and dreading for since first arriving at the hospital. Physicians knew there was never an easy way to give families terrible news, and they knew this better than anyone. It was doctors that provided families with every detail concerning their loved one. They were the ones that shattered hope, brought anguish and changed lives in the worst, most agonizing way.

Not every situation ended like this though. There were just as many instances where hope was restored to even greater heights, smiles were exchanged, tears of joy were shed and fear was replaced with relief. For the Mellark family, they'd been so afraid and convinced that Peeta wouldn't be returning home and would instead, pass away on a hospital bed surrounded by surgeons, doctors and nurses.

When the doctor had first entered the waiting room, the first thing they did was study his face for any expression that would reveal to them the outcome of Peeta's surgery. With a great amount of fear, they studied his face closely, but were surprised with what they noticed. They'd been emotionally preparing themselves for the past few minutes for this man to walk in and crush the small bit of hope they'd been clinging onto. But when the four of them read his face, it was like the world was getting turned upside down, and that was because he wasn't wearing a frown.

For a moment, they wondered if what they were seeing was true. Was this man really not frowning, or was it just their imaginations giving them what they wanted to see? They didn't have long to question what they were actually seeing, because the man could sense the tension in the room and knowing how hard of a wait it had been for them all, he wasn't going to keep them waiting.

Dr. Aurelius reassured them all with a smile and announced gently, "He's going to be fine."

"H-he is!?" shouted Rye with glee, and broke out into a huge, ecstatic smile.

When the doctor nodded, Rye couldn't stop himself from doing the one thing he'd been trying so hard not to do while waiting to hear about his brother – and that was to let all his emotions out by crying. He'd spent the majority of his time crying while waiting with his family in that waiting room and sitting alone in the bathroom stall, but the tears were now coming out harder than ever. Unlike before though, these were tears of sheer and utter happiness. Every tear that poured down his face held increasing delight and it was like the unbearable weight of despair over the past few hours was finally washing out of him.

It was the first time in his life he'd ever cried tears of joy. As such, there was a mixture of feelings swimming inside him – numbness, relief, excitement, shock, amazement – and he knew they wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. The miraculous truth he'd just been told by this man had sent a surge of such force through his entire body and in that instant, he was more awake than he'd been in years. The weary, defeated guy that had been with him and followed him around during the frighteningly stressful waiting had been wiped out. Now in its place was a Rye who felt lively and so full of energy that he could have bounced off the walls with how over the moon thrilled he was.

"Hear that, Luchi?" exclaimed Rye, turning to his brother and giving him the biggest smile Luchi had ever seen in all the years he'd known him. "He's gonna be okay!"

"See, Rye?" said Luchi, with just as big a smile. "Peeta's gonna be fine. I just knew it. I know it didn't seem like he'd make it through this, but my gut told me he'd get through it somehow. I just knew he'd make it through this and—" but he immediately felt his brother's arms wrapping him in a hug. Rye pulled him into such a tight, brotherly hug that Luchi felt like his ribs might break, but hearing the delight in Rye's voice was the single best thing he'd heard all day.

Luchi patted Rye warmly on the back, put both hands on his shoulder and said with shining eyes, "Peeta's coming home."

Rye nodded, wiped his eyes and said with overwhelming emotion, "I know." He wiped the tears from his cheeks, took a shaky, but relieved breath and declared, "No more waiting."

"It's done," Luchi confirmed. "The waiting and wondering...it's all over."

"He's coming home," Rye repeated, thrilled at the thought. Even if he'd wanted to go on he wouldn't have been able to because he was drowned out once more by the arrival of his own tears.

Mr. Mellark looked to Dr. Aurelius and asked, "What happened, doctor? I know when the nurse came and talked to us, she told us his chances for survival were slim. She said he had a seventy-five percent chance of dying, and only a twenty-five percent chance of surviving."

"It was a long and difficult battle for him," the doctor told him, "As you already know, his chance for surviving the surgery was extremely unlikely. It wasn't till the operation was halfway complete that we began observing signs that suggested his time might be soon. What with how much his heart rate and blood pressure had dropped, we all felt sure nothing more could be done for him. We all hoped he'd make it through the remainder of the surgery, but so many signs were staring us in the face and based on previous situations, it didn't look good. We wanted to remain hopeful and believe he was as strong and as much of a fighter as you explained to us earlier, but his odds for surviving just didn't seem high."

Dr. Aurelius paused briefly, and then continued, "But he came through stronger than we've seen in most patients. I can't recall the last time I saw a patient come through fighting as strongly as he did. I've seen cases where patients close to death showed me they still had some fight in them and against all odds, they left this hospital alive and well. Like those individuals, Peeta proved that he too still had the fighting spirit in him and in the end, he won the fight. Having had only a twenty-five percent chance for survival, he proved to us all that he was a fighter, and wasn't going to let death win the battle. All he needs now is some rest and time here to recover but other than that, he's going to be just fine."

The four of them let out sighs and breaths of relief and Luchi had to keep Rye from falling back into his chair. The guy was stunned and dealing with so many emotions that he could hardly stand still, but his brother was there to make sure he stayed on his feet. Their father took a deep breath to calm himself, and then turned to his wife with a relieved smile. She gave him a small smile in return and he could see the genuine relief in her eyes. It was real, sincere and a look that he hadn't seen from his wife in years. Like Rye, she was battling a sense of guilt herself and the fact that she had a chance to be with her son and change the harsh attitude that she'd held towards him over the years was simply overwhelming. No longer was she going to slap, hit or strike him in the face over something as foolish as having burnt a loaf of bread. No, she was going to transform herself into a _changed_ and _better_ mother for her son.

"Hear that, dear?" said Mr. Mellark, slipping his wife's hand into his own. "Peeta's gonna be fine."

"I don't know what to say," she said, holding her husband's gaze.

"That's okay," he said, and gave her hand a slight squeeze. Staring into her eyes with a joyous gleam, he told her, "You don't have to say much if you'd rather not. I know how long of a wait this has been and how long we've been—"

"No, it's not that," she interrupted. Her husband watched her carefully, not quite sure where she was going with this. Her next words, however, made it obviously clear what she'd meant. "It's...it's about Peeta."

"What about him?" said Mr. Mellark quietly.

"You know how I've treated him," she said with disgrace while dropping her head. The look of shame that now filled her eyes was palpable, but her husband was determined to do all he could to help her get through this complicated time. As he'd done for so many years, he'd be there for her. "I was the worst kind of mother imaginable and I...I don't know what I'll say to him."

"Don't worry about it, dear," said Mr. Mellark, putting an arm around her shoulder. "Whatever you decide to say to him and however you say it, it won't matter to Peeta because he's going to be happy enough just seeing you."

"How do you know that?" she asked in confusion.

Her husband gave her a small, encouraging smile and said, "As a father, I just know. There's certain things in life a father just knows, and this is one of them."

"You really think he'll want to see me?"

Mr. Mellark leaned in, gave his wife a kiss and whispered, "I know he will."

After the doctor went through a basic rundown of how the operation had went, he proceeded to provide them with the details. He went on to explain that the bullet had entered Peeta's left side and had lodged in his left lung. During the surgical operation which lasted a total of three hours, things seemed to be going well until his breathing was staring to slow and his blood pressure was beginning to drop. For a while, they were afraid that they'd lost him entirely but then...something surprised them. Out of nowhere, Peeta had come back fighting and his breathing had turned normal and his blood pressure was rising. None of them could quite explain how this had happened but the one thing they were all in agreement was that what they had seen that day in the operating room was nothing short of a miracle. They had witnessed a boy who was knocking on death's door come fighting back _stronger_ than ever as if his wounded body _refused_ to give out on him and would instead, provide him with the strength he needed to survive.

Mr. Mellark, his wife and their two sons could only stare at the floor in silence. Hearing how close Peeta had been to dying, but to then suddenly spring back to life and keep on fighting was a lot to take in. They had gone from fearing that they had lost Peeta for good, to hearing that he was alive and was going to be alright. The situation had done a complete three-sixty and what with how the day had been going and what they'd been told from the nurse, none of them had expected for such an amazing change in events. But what the doctor had just said, he was entirely right about.

Peeta's survival was a miracle and in their eyes, so much more.

"Can we see him, doctor?" asked Mr. Mellark. He could picture his son propped up on the hospital bed with his head resting on a soft, comfortable pillow and a thick blanket covering his body to keep him warm. The fact that he'd just come out of surgery meant that he was likely still asleep, but he wanted to be right by his son's side when he woke up, so that he'd open his eyes to see he was surrounded by family.

Dr. Aurelius gestured for them to follow and said, "Of course. He's awake right now, and I'm sure he wants nothing more than to speak with all of you. Come with me."

The four of them followed the doctor through the long halls where doctors, nurses and other health care providers were hurrying their way out of one room and into another. Most carried clipboards in their arms that held all the significant information that pertained to that particular patient. The place was certainly busy and as they walked by, they noticed just how many patients were in need of care. Bed after bed they passed by and in each bed was another patient, waiting for a nurse or doctor to come in and check on their progress. It was observing all these people – children, teenagers, adults and those much older – that it hit them that Peeta had been amongst them. Just hours ago he himself had been a patient and his life had been in the hands of a team of medical experts. Though they'd known this all along, it was examining all the occupied beds that they realized how close they'd been to losing their Peeta.

 _It's over though_ , Rye reminded himself. _Peeta's okay, there's nothing to worry about and...and he's coming home with us!_

When at last Dr. Aurelius had brought them to the room that Peeta was in, they all just stood there with anxious faces as if they were about to walk in and see Peeta _not_ alive and breathing...but dead and cold as stone. The doctor calmed them down immediately with a kind smile and pointed towards the open doorway. He didn't have to speak a word to calm their nerves; a gesture as simple as pointing to an open doorway was enough to confirm to them that Peeta was alive and waiting for them. Mr. Mellark, his wife and their two sons all exchanged quick looks that spoke a thousand words. In their eyes were so many emotions – excitement, relief, amazement, shock – and they knew these emotions would only feel stronger once they were inside the room and reunited with Peeta.

"I-I'm so nervous," said Rye quietly, his eyes fixed on the floor. "What if he won't want to talk to me? W-what if I don't know what to say to him or—"

"Don't worry," said Luchi, putting a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "It's gonna be okay."

Rye gave a nod and a small smile. Though he was still a great deal nervous about what he would say to Peeta and what his brother's reaction to seeing him would be, it was comforting to know he wasn't alone. His family was there and regardless of what thoughts were racing through his mind, he had the comfort of Luchi's words to help eradicate any nerves still floating around in his mind.

 _Don't worry. It's gonna be okay._

With one last friendly pat on the shoulder from Luchi, Rye directed his attention to the open room in front of him and together, the four of them stepped inside...and _that was_ when they saw him.

Lying on the bed with his eyes closed was Peeta Mellark. His skin was pale as a ghost, but his face was peaceful and relaxed, which could only mean that he _was_ doing alright. The nurses had adjusted the bed for him just minutes ago so as to make him more comfortable when his loved ones came in to see him. There was a large, soft pillow supporting his head and on either side of him were two machines that could only be there to monitor things like his heart rate and blood pressure. As the four of them looked to the machines, they saw various numbers, flashing lights and a consistent beeping sound that was monitoring Peeta's heart rate. For the shortest second, Rye swore his brother's heart had given out when he saw the continuous waves on the machine transform into a straight, unmoving line but he shook himself together and reminded himself it was all in his head. Peeta was in this room alive and well, and his heart was beating away at a normal, healthy and steady rate. All in all, though Peeta looked very much tired and in need of a long sleep, it looked like he still had that spark of life that he was so known for having.

Before anyone had time to say or do anything, something was drawing their attention to the window to their right. It was at the exact moment they were about to walk up and take a closer look at Peeta that some noticeable light was shining into their eyes. Naturally, all four of them turned and looked to observe and what they saw didn't sense. The glass window was covered with thick red curtains, preventing any light from the sun of the outside world from shining through. There shouldn't have been any rays of light visible to watching eyes – but there were.

Shining clear as day through the curtains was a single streak of light that was the brightest, most radiant shade of yellow any of them had ever seen. It was like the sun itself was directing one of its brilliant rays through this particular window and as a result, was lighting up the entire room. How a beam of light could shine through these thick curtains at all was beyond any of them. All they could do was stand there and stare at the window, dumbfounded and stunned at what they were seeing.

Mr. Mellark blinked in confusion, and then caught sight of his wife slowly approaching the window and the glistening beam of light. She didn't say a word as she walked; she just made her way in silence up to the large window and carefully placed her hands on either side of the curtains. Grasping the soft, thick material between her fingers, she hesitated only a second before pulling the drapes aside. While she did so, the ray of light grew five times brighter and forced everyone present to shield their eyes. After allowing them time to adjust, they removed their hands from their eyes and looked once more to the window.

What they saw was both beautiful and dazzling. Now shining through the window for all to see was a beam of light so much larger, brighter and breathtaking than they'd previously seen. With the curtains pulled back and out of the way, the four of them could see how intense this shaft of light actually was, and their eyes grew to the size of marbles. Though they were all taken aback by this golden, yellowish light, there was something else that left them speechless – and that was the fact that it was shining directly on Peeta.

"You seeing this?" said Portia, her eyes transfixed on Peeta and the ray of light shining down on him.

"That light's right on him," the nurse beside her answered. "It's not touching anyone else in this room – only him." She then turned, looked to the doctor and said, "Amazing, isn't it?"

Dr. Aurelius's only response was to shake his head slightly and say, "Like we said...what happened with that boy is nothing short of a miracle. I think what we're seeing confirms that."

The light remained shining on Peeta for what felt like the longest time though in actuality, it was there for all but a few minutes. Then, as if it had never been there at all, it began fading into the air slowly and gradually. The eyes of the Mellarks, the nurses and Dr. Aurelius watched the diminishing radiance with wonder and awe and in the blink of an eye, the shaft of light was no longer visible. Like a rainbow, it had appeared, been marvelled at and when its time was up, had vanished.

Now that the shimmering light had left the room, the Mellarks refocused their attention on the most miraculous sight of all – Peeta.

The first person to approach him was his father. He stood right by his son's side and looked him over for at least a minute before putting a hand gently on his head. Peeta's lashes slowly fluttered, his eyes opened and he gave a small smile when he saw his father staring down at him. For the past few hours, he'd been stuck in a realm of darkness where he could see, feel or hear nothing. To awake and find one of the people he loved and cared most about right by his side was the most relieving, comforting sight he could have wished to see.

"Hi, Dad," he said quietly.

His father couldn't take it. The sheer joy of seeing his son alive was too much for him to handle at that moment. He put his forehead against his sons and said in a shaky and choking whisper, "Oh, _thank god_ you're okay, Peeta. We...we were _so_ worried, all of us. W-we thought you might not make it through surgery. When the nurse came and told us how slim your chances for making it were, we...we didn't know what to think."

"I'm _really_ happy to see you guys," Peeta told them sincerely. "And I'm sorry to hear how worried you were."

"You're gonna be fine, Peeta," his father said, tears falling down his face. "He said it was a tough battle for you but that you fought hard and came out okay. You just have to spend a bit of time here but once that's done...you're coming home."

Peeta smiled at the joyous thought of returning home and said quietly, "Ican't wait." He paused only momentarily before saying, "Dad?"

"Yeah, son?"

Peeta stared up at his father, glanced over at his mother and two brothers and said, "You were there."

His father blinked in puzzlement and asked, "Where?"

"During the surgery," Peeta explained, holding each of their gazes. "You were there. All of you. I know that sounds weird and it probably doesn't make sense but you...you were all there. I know you were. Dad, Mom, Luchi, and you too, Rye."

Mr. Mellark was at a loss of words. He wasn't quite sure what to say to this, but his son went on talking and he, along with his wife and two sons continued listening with the greatest of interest.

"It was like I could hear you," said Peeta, coughing lightly. His father reached over to the small table beside him and handed his son the glass of water that had been placed there by Portia. Peeta drank slowly and carefully so as not to spill it and once he'd finished, he set it back on the table. He wiped his lips to dry them off, and then went on, "I know I was asleep but I swear I could hear all of you. It was like you were all with me, talking to me and telling me that even though things looked bad, you were all there telling me I wasn't alone."

Mr. Mellark placed a hand on his son's shoulder, and said with a smile, "You weren't. When you first got here, the minute you entered that operating room...we were there. We might not have been there beside you or in the same room, but we were there."

Peeta smiled back and said, "I know I already said this but I can't tell you how happy I am to see you guys. It was scary because the last thing I remembered happening was getting lifted onto a stretcher and then placed in the back of an ambulance but then after that, I...I passed out." It was a frightening memory – getting hurried out of the school and into the vehicle that would speed away to the Bernick Hospital – but there was something that was all too comforting for him, and that was getting greeted by his family once the surgery was over and done. "Seeing you guys here is the best thing I could have asked for. It's scary thinking back and knowing what had to be done to me but you guys were here the entire time and that makes me feel a lot better about everything."

With another smile, Peeta said to his father, "Thank you for being there." With a look to his mother, Luchi and Rye, he said warmly, "All of you."

His father nodded and said with emotion, "We'll always be there for you, Peeta."

Mr. Mellark then rose to his feet and turned to face his wife. She was staring down at the floor and avoiding her son's gaze as if she hadn't the slightest idea of what to say to him. The look alone on her face was enough to tell her husband that she was clearly holding back a ton of regrets and emotions and didn't have any idea of where to start in speaking to her son. All he did was give her a nod of silence and a small smile in understanding that seemed to say to her, "It's alright. This is your son, and whatever it is you say to him or however you choose to word your apology, it'll be okay. Peeta will always be ready to forgive you and start fresh with you. Just knowing that you're sorry and want nothing more than to form the bond with him that he's always wanted to will be enough for him. There are some people in the world that might hold their grudge on one for a lifetime, and will never forgive. Your son Peeta isn't one of them."

Mrs. Mellark gave a small nod in return and without a word, she walked up next to Peeta and took a seat beside him in the chair that had been placed there. She finally moved her eyes from the floor to her waiting son and with an almost inaudible sigh, she said the only thing she could think of saying to him right then. It was simple and to the point but there was so much emotion behind the words that she feared she might not have the strength to get them out...but she did. It didn't matter how difficult it was to speak them because her son deserved and needed to hear them.

"I'm so sorry," she said, and her voice was so quiet that Peeta would have missed it if he hadn't been listening and giving his full attention to her. But he was listening and there wasn't a chance in the world that he'd listen to anything else at that moment but his mother's voice.

"I know," he said in a whisper. "But it's okay, Mom. I—"

"No, Peeta," his mother said shakily, and felt tears trickling down her cheeks. They were tears of sadness, relief, joy and amazement but above all – they were tears of shame and regret _. "_ It's not okay...it's not okay the way I treated you. The way I spoke to you and acted towards you is just...just unacceptable. I should have realized this from the beginning. A mother should never treat her own child this way and I'm disgusted with myself for ever having treated you like that."

Peeta stared up at his mother, absorbing and taking in each and every word she was saying to him. All his life he'd wished to have a bond with his mother and to be able to go and talk to her when he needed listening ears or to go to her when he was upset, for she'd be his shoulder to lean on for support. As he looked into her tearful eyes he was hit with a sense of hope that maybe he and his mother were about to start off fresh and develop the mother and son relationship that he'd wanted since the day he was born. So long he'd be wishing for this and for him, there wouldn't be a greater gift in the world than becoming close with his mother, as he was with his father.

"I think you need to know the truth though, Peeta," she said softly, but it was clear she was hesitant about whether or not to go on. _No, he has to know. My son's been wondering all these years why I've been such a witch and even though it's horrible, he...he still has every right to know what made me so bitter and cruel._

"Mom, it's okay," said Peeta gently. "You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to, I—"

"No," she argued, amazed by this boy's undying kindness. "You've been wondering for a long time, Peeta, why I was the way I was, and why I treated you so badly." She turned and looked at her two other sons and added with shame, "Why I treated all of you so badly."

She took a breath, recalled all the disgraceful things she'd said and done to her son and said, "When your father and I first met, Peeta, we knew right away we wanted children. It was something in life we knew we both wanted, and so we didn't need to spend long discussing it. The thing is...I always wanted a daughter. I longed to have a little girl, someone whose hair I could braid, whose dresses I could pick out and buy, and whose room I could fill with toys and dolls. I was so keen on having a daughter that when I gave birth to Luchi I...I felt disappointed."

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her oldest son's head drop and she was struck with such grief that she feared she wouldn't be able to keep speaking. It must not have been easy to for him to stand there and hear that when he was born and she saw him for the first time, she wasn't hit with immense joy like most mothers would be but instead, was dissatisfied because she wasn't given what she wanted.

"I shouldn't have though," she said, her voice cracking. "Because he turned out to be a wonderful son. You've always been wonderful, Luchi, and you're such a great help around the bakery and are great with customers. I can't believe I didn't see this sooner and I hate myself for it. I really do. I wish I could have seen from the beginning how amazing of a son you'd be."

Mrs. Mellark and her oldest son locked eyes for a solid minute. No words were spoken between them during this time, but Luchi swore he could see the regret in his mother's eyes, and he understood too well how sorry she really was.

She then swallowed and said quietly, "I'm so sorry, Luchi. I wish I could have been a better mother to you. Nineteen years is a long time, and I should have been there for you, and treated you better."

"It's okay though," he repeated. "And we're all gonna be fine."

The look she gave her son suggested that she felt different, as if the shame she felt for her behaviour went far beyond what any of her sons were aware of.

"It's alright, Mom," he said with sympathy. "Life's never easy but we're here, we're together and we're going to move forward as a family. We're going to be okay. All of us."

His mother didn't respond, and he figured she was so caught up in her own thoughts that she wasn't able to find the words to answer. This was all too true, and she knew it would be just as difficult getting through the rest of the story, but she had no choice. She had to.

Mr. Mellark stood next to her in silence and every now and then he'd glance at Peeta to see what his reaction was, but it always the same. He wouldn't interrupt or cut her off halfway through what she was saying and not once did a look of anger cross his face. He simply remained sitting with a calm expression on his face, and his father understood his behaviour perfectly. As he'd assured his wife, their youngest son wasn't one to hold a grudge. He was a caring and considerate kind of guy that liked forgiving people because as he so often thought to himself, what was the point in staying angry with people when you could work things out and not have to be upset? It was simply better to push all feelings of anger aside and find room in one's heart for forgiveness.

Mrs. Mellark then returned his eyes to Peeta and said, "So after we had Luchi, your father and I decided that we'd like to have another child soon. So we waited a little while and then two years after Luchi was born, we had Rye." She sighed under her breath and said with embarrassment, "And as probably already know based on what I just said, I was still greatly disappointed."

Rye stared at his mother for a long moment. He dropped his head temporarily, but then quickly felt his brother's arm wrap around him and when he glanced up, he saw Luchi's eyes locked on his own. For a split second, Rye could see the reassurance in his older brother's eyes and without words having to be spoken, he could hear Luchi telling him, " _It's gonna be okay_."

With an imperceptible nod, Rye turned and went on listening to his mother's words.

"I hate looking back on it," said Mrs. Mellark. "It was bad enough how I reacted with Luchi but knowing how I felt when we had Rye, I...I feel so ashamed. Instead of acting how most mothers would which was to be thrilled at the fact that I had a healthy child, I thought only of how I'd wanted a daughter, and hadn't been given that." Just as she'd said to Luchi, she looked her other son directly in the eye and said, "I'm sorry, Rye. I know you two have every right to feel disgusted with me for how I went on treating you and—"

"It's okay," said Rye quietly. "If you wanted a daughter and got a son, then—"

"No, Rye," she said firmly. "There's no excuse whatsoever for how I treated you. Not one in the world. You deserved to be loved and all I did was yell at you and go on acting like you were some kind of pest. But I was the pest." In a much softer tone, she said, "I can't tell you how sorry I am. How much I wish I could take it all back."

Rye felt a small smile crossing his face and with a hopeful tone, he asked her, "So you...you wouldn't replace me for a daughter? You don't mind me being in the family?"

Hearing what her own son had just asked sent a jolt of pain through her entire body. It was like a bomb had been thrown in her face and had left the most devastating explosion. His question had struck something inside her, and that was the realization that since they were born, she'd never truly had a close bond with either of her sons. For years, a solid, but invisible wall had been in place and because of it, she and her sons hadn't developed any kind of mother-son relationship. The relationship they did have consisted only of her demanding them to get things done, punishing them for things they did wrong, yelling at them if they drove her insane and beating them if they pushed her over the edge.

It was hearing what her son just said that she understood something. She wished she could have understood it years ago when he and Luchi had first been born, but there was no point dwelling on the past. Everything she'd said and done was part of yesterday and what mattered right then was ensuring she acted to make a better mother to her children.

"No, Rye," she said chokingly. "I wouldn't trade you for anyone. You're my son and I...I love you."

What then happened was one of the greatest things she'd ever remembered happening to her over the past few years. All she'd recalled from her past was screaming and shouting in their home and not often was there the beautiful sound of peaceful silence. All that filled the bakery was arguing, bickering and constant hollering. The only time the place was ever filled with considerable quietness was when there were customers. Other than that, it was arguing, bickering and constant hollering.

Her son seemed to sense how troubled she was though because without even hesitating, he walked over, wrapped his arms around her tightly and said, "Love you too, Mom."

It was almost too much for Mrs Mellark, who felt like her shame was eating her up. _When was the last time I even hugged him? When was the last time I even hugged any of them? My god, he's probably thinking the same thing. When was the last time my mom even took the time to give me a hug? To acknowledge me? Tell me I love you?_

When the two separated, she said to Rye, "I know you probably had a lot on your plate over the years. School, helping out your father and I and other things I probably didn't know about. I know I wasn't very involved in your life and never asked how things were going. I'm sorry I couldn't have been there for you but I promise that won't be the case anymore. I'm gonna be there."

Rye gave his mom another quick hug and said, "Thanks, Mom."

It was now time to bring her third son into the story and she knew this would be tough. Of her three sons, Peeta had without a doubt been the one that got treated the worst. Though she'd given them all a hard time, it was Peeta who'd received the most painful knocks and blows to the head and most severe punishments. It was Peeta who'd been treated like an unwanted child, like a person who could do no right, was always screwing up and was the definition of the world's most terrible son. Where Luchi had hardly ever been beaten and Rye received hits only when he drove her insane, this was never the case with her youngest son. When he tried to be nice, he got punched as if he'd been acting nasty. When he said nothing at all, he got yelled at as if what he'd actually said was offensive. When he made even the simplest mistakes, he'd get a black eye as he'd lit the bakery itself on fire.

She fought hard to hold back her tears at knowing what she had to say next, but failed. Letting the tears slip out of her eyes and down her cheeks, she said, "After we had Luchi and Rye, we didn't give it much time till we agreed to have another child. We both felt that three children would be plenty enough, so when I was pregnant and waiting for this next child, I had a feeling we'd be given a girl. There was just something telling me this would finally be our daughter."

Not once did Peeta remove his eyes from his mother's teary ones.

"So then when the day came and we got to the hospital," his mother went on. "I was more certain than ever that we'd be meeting our daughter. Like with Luchi and Rye, I was discouraged when I found out we had a son. I told myself I'd be okay with two sons as long as we had a daughter, but that wasn't how things turned out."

Mrs. Mellark paused, took a breath and said, "You were supposed to be our daughter, Peeta. I was so set on having a girl that when I found out we were given a son, all I felt was angry and bitter. I shouldn't have been this way, but I was. And I kept feeling this anger even years later and it never went away. I was so upset over not having at least one daughter in the family that I took all that anger out on all of you." She sniffed, rubbed her hands over her face and said, "But you were treated the worst, Peeta. The way I treated the three of you was appalling, but you were treated the worst, and I hate having to even say this but...but it was because you were supposed to be born a daughter. When I realized I'd been given another son, I...I let the anger consume me rather than relish in the fact that I had another child."

It was killing her to think what was going through Peeta's mind, but he'd deserved to know the truth about his mother – the mother that had been so harsh and cruel to him. As upsetting as it was to imagine the pain he was feeling at knowing his mother had preferred a daughter over himself, she knew she'd done the right thing by telling him. For too long she'd kept this boy in the dark as to why she acted so callously, and it was time she brought him into the light and revealed the secret she'd kept with her since the day Luchi was born.

"I let something as foolish as getting upset over my child's gender change me into a monster," she said, and most of her brain was now feeling dreadfully numb. "Instead of obsessing over having a daughter, I should have loved you and been grateful to have been given a third child, one that was healthy just like my other two. But I didn't, and I know it's going to be a long time before I can truly get over this."

There was a long pause, and then she went ahead to the most important thing she'd wanted to inform her son of.

"Never again am I going to act like that," she promised him. "It was disgraceful the way I treated you. Of all the people to treat like that, the fact that I did so to my own son is just unacceptable. But I promise, Peeta...it won't be like that anymore. From now on, I'm going to be the mother you've always deserved to have. The mother all three of you deserved from the start. I just...I just hope you can forgive me. I-I know how I acted was—"

"Of course I forgive you, Mom," said Peeta quickly, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'm just so happy that you're all here with me. It was lonely waking up and having nobody here with me but when the doctor told me you guys would be coming in to see me...it was the best thing he could have said to me. I'm just grateful we're all here together."

His mother nodded and said tearfully, "I know. And...and your father told me about what happened with you and Katniss – how you took the bullet so she would be safe." She then went on in a clearly choking voice, "You've always been such a selfless person, Peeta but I...I never realized how truly selfless you are till he told me that. I'm so sorry for all those things I said to you about Katniss, about how you wasted your time loving her and wanting to be with her. I really am happy that you two are together. It's obvious you love her more than I could ever understand, and it's clear you're happy with her."

"Thanks, Mom," said Peeta. "I...I do love her. A lot."

"I know," his mother said, and gave a sad smile. "I...can see that now. I might not have known before but I do now."

The two were silent for only a moment before his mother couldn't take it anymore. After having spoken to her son and having him tell her that he forgave her and that he was looking forward to starting fresh with her, it was like it was too much for her to handle. Having been such a cruel and heartless witch to Peeta since he was only young but now knowing that she was about to put all that behind her and leave it in the past, it felt like the woman she'd become was leaving for good. It was like the harsh and terrible person that had consumed her over the years was fading into nothing and in its place would be a new and better woman and the kind of mother Peeta had always wanted.

She leaned down and giving him a soft kiss on the forehead, she told him, "I love you, Peeta _._ I've always loved you. I just...hadn't been the kind of mother I should have been from the beginning. I let my anger control me, and I should never have let that happen. But I promise you that won't be the case anymore. You won't have to—" and here she couldn't help but let a tear escape from her eye at remembering back to all the abuse she'd inflicted onto her son. "You won't have to worry about me hitting you anymore."

"I love you too _,_ Mom," said Peeta, and kept his forehead against his mothers for a long moment before she finally pulled away and then stepped aside so Luchi could see him.

"Hey, man," he said, gently putting a hand on Peeta's shoulder.

"Hey, Luchi."

"Really glad you're okay," said Luchi, and he too was holding back emotion. "It...it was scary waiting out there, thinking you might not make it."

Peeta gave a light nod and said, "I can't even imagine what that would be like. But I'm okay now. The doctors fixed me up really good."

Luchi smiled and said, "It's great to see you okay. And I'm sorry too. I know I wasn't exactly the nicest brother to you over the years. I feel really bad about it. I should have been there for you more. I should have been a better brother to you instead of ignoring you like you weren't even there. We could have been a lot closer, but I hardly ever talked to you, or asked you if you wanted to go do something together and...and I feel awful about it. I hate looking back on it because I just wish I would have been nicer to you, and actually treated you like a brother instead of just some fly on the wall. I guess I just spent too long being...selfish. I spent too much time worrying about myself and my own life. All I ever cared about was myself and my own needs but I shouldn't have been like that."

"Don't worry about it," said Peeta kindly. Like with his mother, he was all too quick to forgive and look forward to a brighter future with his family. What with how many years he'd been longing for his family to become closer, feeling bitter and resentful just wasn't an option. What mattered was letting the past remain in the past to allow them all to embrace a greater future. "It's all in the past now, and that's what's important, right?"

Luchi gave another smile and said, "Right." He then added in a sincere voice, "Thanks, Peeta. I know I wasn't that great of a brother, but that means a lot, you saying that."

He gave his brother a final friendly touch on the shoulder and it was like Peeta could feel all his brother's regrets and apologies rushing inside of him. In the weirdest way – just like he'd experienced with his father's touch, as well as his mother's – it felt like he was receiving some force of energy. Whether it was all part of his head and nothing more, or whether there was in fact some kind of energy that was flowing between he and his family, Peeta wasn't sure of. All he knew for certain was that his family was there and with them was something else he'd never believed there to be much of between them – love.

Luchi kept his hand on his brother's shoulder for a few moments longer, and then stepped back and stood between his parents and Rye.

The next person to approach Peeta...was Rye.

Rye knew it was now his turn to speak to his brother but now that the time had come, he wondered what in the world he'd say. He wasn't too worried about what he'd say – he was more worried he'd have the strength to get out the words. But he had to. Ever since he'd seen Peeta getting lifted into the back of the ambulance, he'd feared he'd never get the chance to talk to him again, or apologize.

But he was now able to, and the wave of emotion washing over him couldn't have been any greater.

He looked down at Peeta and it was obvious that he was fighting to keep from bursting out crying right then and there. There was no question that out of the four of them, he was holding back the most emotion and fighting a ton of regrets and guilt that had been consuming him since the moment he first saw Peeta being lifted into the ambulance.

"H-hi, Peeta," was all he said. _It's okay. Just tell him everything you need to tell him. Tell him you're sorry and just remember what Luchi said. It's gonna be okay._

"Hey, Rye," said Peeta softly.

Rye looked nervously at the machines, then back to Peeta and said, "Y-you're not in pain, are you? Y-you feel okay?"

Peeta gave a slight nod and said, his voice still in a whisper, "Yeah, I'm okay."

"That stuff that's flashing on the m-machines," said Rye, pointing to the devices on either side of his bed. "T-that means you're okay, right?"

Peeta nodded and said in a reassuring voice, "Don't worry. They're just there to make sure my heart's beating normal and that I'm breathing alright. I'm okay, Rye. Really."

After the three of them had spoken to Peeta and he'd assured them that he was fine, Rye asked if he could have just a bit of time with Peeta alone. When his father, mother and brother had left, he took a seat in the chair next to Peeta and let out a weary sigh. He kept his head down for a moment and Peeta watched him carefully, and a look of concern crossed his face.

"Rye?" asked Peeta, a touch of worry in his voice.

Rye stayed like this for the longest time and when Peeta leaned forward to see if his brother was okay and if he needed some water or to walk around for a bit...he felt the arms of Rye wrapping around him and a forehead pressing against his own. It wasn't long before he heard his brother snivelling and as if the emotion were proving too much for him to cope with, he buried his head into Peeta's shoulder and let all the pain and regret pour out of him. No longer could he keep the pain and regret locked up inside him for it was all but desperate to escape. For so long he'd feared he'd be losing his brother and would never get the chance to give him the apology he'd always deserved but now...now he was holding his brother and he wouldn't be going anywhere _._ Along with his regret, his fears of losing Peeta forever were washing away as well.

It was then that he was hit with such a joyous realization that it only made him cry even harder.

His little brother was going to be okay.


	41. Chapter 41

**CHAPTER 41**

 **NOVEMBER**

When he lifted his head, Peeta saw that Rye's eyes were red from crying. It was clear that there was much more going on in his older brother's mind than Peeta could guess.

"I have to tell you something, Peeta," said Rye uneasily. "I...I don't even know where to begin—"

"You don't have to say anything," said Peeta softly. "If you'd rather sit there and—"

"But I have to!" was Rye's argument. " _Of course I have to! There's no way I'm just gonna sit here and not say anything._ _No way_. "I've been haunted by it ever since I watched you get in the back of that ambulance. It's about how I've been t-treating you for so long. I've tried coming up with as best of an apology as I could think of, but I don't know how great it's going to sound..."

"It's okay Rye," said Peeta weakly. "You don't have to—"

"It's not okay, Peeta!" Rye said with emotion, and from there all the words came pouring out. "Here I've spent years picking on you like you were the most annoyingperson in the world when really you were the best person in the world. I called you name after name, not even thinking how it made you felt. But when I saw you in the back of that ambulance, I…it was like I couldn't breathe. I was so scared you were already dead, that I was gonna lose you. It was like time slowed down for me and all I could think of right then watching you go...was that I'd lost you and that I'd never get the chance to tell you how sorry I am. I've been a total jerk to you – the one guy who was my best friend growing up– and yet you never did anything to deserve what I did to you. So many years I picked on you and made you seem like you were the biggest wuss in all of Panem, when in fact, you were the nicest and best and bravest of _anyone_ I've ever known and—"

Rye stopped, dropped his head while letting the tears come out, and then looked back at Peeta and went on in a choking voice, "I just want you to know that I'm done treating you like dirt. When you come home, I'm gonna be the kind of brother I should have been from the start. No more names, hitting, teasing or humiliating. I want to start treating you the way you _deserve_ to be treated. I'm just... _so_ sorry about everything. I can't even tell you _how_ sorry I am. I wish there was a way I could. I-it just wasn't right for me to have been so jealous of someone and take it all out on them, let alone my own brother. I was envious of you, Peeta. You were always such a nice guy, you did well in school, you had lots of friends and everything seemed to work out so great for you. I...I just wasn't like that. I do awful in school, I don't have that many friends and I always grew up thinking I'd never amount to anything, but I always knew that you would. But being jealous of someone, especially someone as great as you, shouldn't give me the right to treat them the way I treated you. I just...I just want you to know how terrible I feel about it. I don't think I'll ever truly forgive myself for how I acted, but there's just one thing..."

He then asked quietly, as if scared what the answer might be, "Peeta, can...can you everforgive me?" He then added nervously, "I-I know I don't even deserve to be forgiven, but it would mean the world to me if we could start off fresh."

Without a hint of hesitation, Peeta responded honestly, "Of course, Rye."

A tear fell down Rye's cheek, and he quickly wiped it away. He then gave Peeta a truly grateful smile and said, "You _really are_ the nicest and best of anyone I've ever seen, little bro. I'm lucky to have a brother like you who'll forgive a jerk like me. Heck, I'm probably the luckiest guy in the world to have you as a brother. I don't even deserve to have a brother like you, Peeta."

Peeta carefully lifted his hand up, held it out to Rye and smiled, "Friends again _?"_

Rye took his hand, gave it a shake, chuckled, and though it was clear he was still holding back from crying and battling a ton of emotion, he managed to get out, "Friends again."

Peeta lowered his hand back on the bed and gave a light sigh. He then gave a little grin and said to Rye, "Just think. I'll finally be able to show you how much _better_ I am at video games than you. All this time you've gone on thinking you're the best, but you've got some competition now. Hope you're up for a little challenge."

"Oh, yeah?" said Rye, with an even bigger grin. "Have you even _seen_ me play?"

"I have," said Peeta. "And I've seen you play enough to know that I can kick your butt about three times over."

"Is that so?" said Rye, who chuckled and said, "Alright, Peeta. When we get home, we'll see who the best gamer is. You and I will battle it out for the title of _Best Gamer_."

"You're on," said Peeta.

Before Rye left, he gave Peeta a final look and Peeta could tell just by one look into his eyes that _already_ his brother was transforming back into the old Rye that had been buried for so long. To say that it was an incredible feeling to witness this was an understatement. This one, amazing sight was one he'd waited years to see.

"Thanks, Peeta." said Rye graciously. _You really are the nicest brother in the world. The fact that you'd forgive someone like me proves that. You really didn't have to forgive me; you could have refused to. But you didn't. And it's one of the reasons you're the best brother in the world._

"You know, Rye?" said Peeta, sounding more at peace than he ever had.

"What?" his brother asked.

"It's really good to have you back," said Peeta sincerely. He paused briefly, and added, "I've missed you."

Rye nodded, and stared back at his brother with tears welling in his eyes. "I know," he snivelled, overcome with emotion. "I missed you too."

Before leaving, he told Peeta reassuringly, "And don't worry. This time…I'm not going anywhere."

"The Mellark brothers are back," Peeta declared. The joy and excitement bubbling inside him made him feel like he could have gone on smiling for days.

"Yes, they are," Rye agreed with a little wink. In that one small moment, Peeta saw more than ever the old, familiar Rye that he remembered so well – playful, adventurous and the greatest friend Peeta had ever known growing up.

Once Rye had left the room, Peeta was alone for a while. He'd suddenly found himself increasingly tired and after having been fed by one of the nurses, what he really wanted was to doze off and get some sleep. Ever since he'd gotten to the hospital, he'd found that he was more tired and exhausted than he'd ever been. Having just come out of surgery not too long ago, his body was now entering the stage of recovery and as the doctors had told him, he'd be out of the hospital and back home in about two weeks.

With his head on the pillow, Peeta closed his eyes and was asleep within minutes.

Katniss had just fallen to sleep with Buttercup curled up beside her when once more she was sucked into the horrors of the nightmare world, and what she was about to experience was about the most horrid thing she could everfear to.

 _W-where_ _is this?_ she thought, glancing around.

Never had she seen this place before and didn't recall seeing it even in a dream. It looked to her like she was on a hilltop and behind her were nothing but trees that reached to the sky and stretched on forever. All around her was sheer darkness and when she searched the sky for any living stars, she came up empty. There wasn't a speck of light or color to be seen anywhere.

She started walking and when she came to an edge that looked down onto a valley thousands of feet below, she gasped in surprise and took a step back. One misstep and she would have gone tumbling to the bottom. It was nerve-wracking to think what it would be like to go sailing over the edge...to fall and keep falling and feel like you'd never in your life reach the bottom. The thought terrified her beyond words.

But there was something that soon terrified her even more and that was the bloodcurdling scream of her boy with the bread. She rushed back up to the edge and when she looked down it was like all the life had left her body because barely hanging onto the branch that was only a few feet beneath her...was _Peeta_ _._ All that kept him from plummeting to his death was a pitiful branch and by the looks of it wasn't going to hold for much longer. The fear in his eyes was horrifying and when he opened his mouth, it was like she could feel just how frightened he was.

"Katniss!" he screamed, his voice echoing in the shadows. "Help me!"

" _P-Peeta_?" she shouted, and her throat had suddenly become dry. "How did you—"

" _Please!_ " he begged, clutching desperately onto the branch. "Help me!"

She didn't have time to answer, let alone try and reach down to pull him up because stalking towards her was a creature she hadn't yet seen before...but _Peeta_ had. As he'd heard time and again, the beast was laughing. When her eyes fell on it, she couldn't make out exactly what it was; all she knew was that it was black and had glowing, unblinking eyes. It moved closer to her while keeping its head held high and when it was close enough that she could at last make out what it was...it was the single most frightening thing she had ever looked upon.

It was a hawk.

But unlike a common, ordinary bird, this was easily the size of a person and as it stood tall on its feet, it towered over her like a massive giant. Its eyes were the brightest shade of yellow she'd ever seen and staring into them was like staring death in the face and all she wanted was for it to leave and never return. As Katniss listened to the laughter of the hawk, it occurred to her that it wasn't the screeching voice of a hawk at all – it was a _person's_ voice. More specifically, it was a guy'svoice. She knew she'd heard it somewhere before but she wasn't able to put her tongue on _where_ she'd heard it.

She knew what she had to do. She _had_ to get Peeta up so the two could find a place out of that horror. She couldn't leave him there to plunge to his death or be left to this monster hawk. But as she reached her hand down to try and grab a hold of his, she realized that he couldn't reach far enough.

But she had to keep trying, and as she leaned down even farther...she felt a tearing sensation in both of her shoulders. She didn't have to look to see what had happened. The hawk had driven its claws into her and was stopping whatever chance she had of saving Peeta.

It held her firmly while hissing with a grin, "He doesn't _belong_ to _you_. He belongs to him!"

What she then saw down below was even more frightening than the hawk itself. Though he was thousands of feet beneath them, she could see him as if he were standing directly in front of her. It was the gunman Titus and as always, he was holding the gun in his hand while pointing it up and aiming it at Peeta.

It all happened so fast that Katniss hadn't remembered quite what happened. Whether the hawk had broken the branch or Peeta had lost his grip on it, it didn't matter because the result was the same. Peeta went plummeting to his death. It was a fall that lasted only a few seconds and as her eyes stayed locked on his, she watched in terror as the gunman pulled the trigger. Peeta was just seconds from reaching the ground and he was still screaming out, "Katniss!" when the bullet went screaming into his chest and the scream that escaped his lips was downright haunting.

"Peeta!"

His body lay crumpled on the ground with Titus standing over him with a victorious grin. He then turned and stalked off while still holding the gun securely in his hand. Katniss shook her head and called Peeta's name to the point where she had lost her voice. But even as she was leaving the nightmare and re-entering reality, she was still able to scream his name one last time when...

"Katniss!"

" _NO_!" she howled.

She awoke breathing heavily and panting hard, but when she saw her sister sitting on the bed next to her, she gave a sigh of relief. The nightmare was over and she was now faced with the pleasant sight of her sister. What made it all the more pleasant was the huge smile of excitement that lit up her face. Prim was a girl that smiled mostly all the time but when she gave a smile like the one she was giving Katniss right then, it could only mean one thing.

"There's someone on the phone, Katniss!" Prim exclaimed, holding it out to her. "It's about Peeta!"

"W-what!?"

Quicker than she'd ever moved in her life, she took the phone from her and shakily held it up to her ear.

"H-hello?"

"Hello, Katniss?" came a man's deep voice.

"Y-yeah, it's me."

"My name's Dr. Aurelius. I work at the Bernick Hospital. I'm the one who's been caring and watching over Peeta Mellark."

There it was. The call she'd been dreading, waitingand obsessing over for the past few hours...and it was _now here_ _._ It took every bit of her to say her next words carefully so as not to break down crying at what the answer might be.

" _H-how is he_ doctor?"

Though she couldn't see Dr. Aurelius, she would have been thrilled to know that a smile was crossing his lips as he answered, "I'm _truly pleased_ to tell you that Peeta is doing just fine. After hours of surgery and several procedures, he's now on his way to a healthy and speedy recovery. It seemed at first that his chance for surviving was hopelessly slim but somehow...he came through. I don't know how else to tell you this Miss Everdeen, but what we've just witnessed here with this boy is nothing short of a miracle."

"C-can I...can I talk to him?" she cried, and there was no stopping the tears that came trickling down her cheeks. They were tears of absolute relief and sheer happiness. Her boy with the bread was _alive_ , _well_ and was going to recover.

The doctor gave a slight chuckle and said, "He's actually asked if you can come in and see him today, but I think I can put him on for a minute. Just give me a second."

What she then heard was the mostbeautiful, comfortingsound she had ever heard. So many doubts and fears and worries had consumed her over the past day but it was now all a thing of the past. All the horrific sounds she'd been re-hearing since Peeta had left her – her own screaming as Peeta was shot down in cold blood and Rye's howling as he watched the ambulance that held his brother speeding away – were leaving her mind altogether.

Though his voice was weak and no louder than a whisper, she could hear plain as day the obvious joy in it.

" _Hi_ , _sweetheart_."

The following morning, Peeta awoke to see Dr. Aurelius standing by his bed. He was holding a phone by his ear, and when Peeta realized who he was talking to, he had to resist from jumping out of his bed right then and grabbing the phone. But he knew his recovering body would have _never_ forgiven him for that, so he stayed put and patiently waited. A moment or so later, the doctor gave a nod and then handed the phone to Peeta with a smile.

"It's Katniss Everdeen," he told him. "She'd like to speak to you."

"R-really!" he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. "She's on the phone?" He immediately wished he hadn't shouted, because a slight pain was now burning in his throat, but he ignored it and focused only on the phone and Katniss.

Dr. Aurelius chuckled and said, "Yes."

Peeta took the phone and had to keep from dropping it out of sheer excitement. Never in his life had he been so excited to talk on the phone. With an almost inaudible whisper, he said, " _Hi,_ _sweetheart_."

" _P-Peeta_?" came Katniss's voice. He could tell right away that she'd been crying.

"Hi, Katniss," he said, and a smile crossed his face. "It's so good to hear your voice."

"How...how are you?" she asked quickly.

"I'm okay," Peeta reassured her. "Really. I was actually wondering if you wanted to come in and see me. I already asked the doctors and they said they're alright with it."

"S-sure!" she said excitedly, her voice cracking. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

The nightmare with the hawk throwing Peeta off the hilltop and Katniss being forced to watch helplessly as he plummeted to his death where Titus awaited him had been wiped out of her mind. She had awoken screaming Peeta's name but not long after that, after she'd spoken to Dr. Aurelius, the dream was no longer a figment of her imagination. It had turned out to be one of those dreams that you remembered for only a second after you've awoken, but then ends up getting erased out your mind completely. She would likely have told Peeta about the strange dream and the appearance of the hawk if only she would have remembered it. But the nightmare had come, occurred and then left her mind as if it had never been there. And perhaps it was better that she forget the nightmare, what with everything she was going through.

So much fear and anxiety had been growing over the past day and whenever her mind went back to revisit the moment when Titus had pulled the trigger and shot Peeta, she wanted to wake up and find it was all just a sick nightmare. What had happened in the halls of Madderson High had been anything _but_ a dream, and was nothing but harsh reality. It was after witnessing her boy with the bread get thrown to his death by a bullet to the chest, and then rushed to the hospital that she no longer looked at the world in the same light. Everything she'd ever thought about how the world worked led her to believe that it wasn't so different from the nightmare's she'd been faced with...and that it was _cruel._

She felt convinced that her new opinion of the world could never be altered or changed because as long as Peeta was missing from her life, leaving only a gaping hole, then the world _was indeed_ cruel. How could the world _not_ be cruel when the person she loved most had been so brutally taken from her and the chances of his survival were slim to none?

It was a single phone call that had changed absolutely everything. With this call, not only had her hope been restored but the hole that had been punctured into her life was now beginning to fill itself. All the joy and pleasure that had once been a part of her life was going to become part of it once again because Peeta Mellark was _going_ to survive **.** The bullet that had fired into his chest was not going to end his life and leave all those that cared for him broken and depressed.

What the gunman Titus had set out to achieve that day as he held the gun on Peeta while threatening to kill both Katniss and the entire school if he made a move...had _backfired_ completely. He had set out to end Peeta Mellark's life but what he got for his efforts instead was captivity from the police – known as Peacekeepers in Panem's various districts – and a good lifetime behind bars.

In District Twelve, Peacekeepers didn't take shootings lightly, especially not when the shooters turned out to be crazy, sick and twisted in the head. Where other Districts in Panem might have approached such situations different, officers in District Twelve did what they had to in order to ensure that such dangerous people weren't left to claim more victims. As soon as they'd heard from Katniss that Titus had crept into the school with the single goal of killing Peeta and had indeed shot him, there was only one place for a guy like that to belong and that was in jail.

No time soon was the madman ever going to see the light of day again.

 _Confinement_ was now the home of Titus.

What was particularly interesting was that when the officers had asked Titus if he had been working alone or with somebody else, his quick answer was, "alone." Katniss had mentioned to the police that Titus had said he was on a mission, but no matter how many questions the police bombarded him with...Titus would not reveal the details of his plot. He was silent and quiet and absolutely refused to speak even a few words.

"Were you acting alone, or were there others involved?" was a question the officers would ask him.

Titus would only shrug while giving a little grin and say, "Maybe...maybe not. Don't feel like saying."

It was extremely frustrating for both Officer Darius and Officer Purnia to not get a word out of this creep but no matter how much they might have believed this was a person who wasn't deserving of life, there was a reason that Titus had to be kept alive and not given a death sentence. If the officers could have had their own way and if it could have been allowed, perhaps all would have been in agreement to give a death sentence to this madman. But that was something that couldn't be done and for an important reason.

"You can't kill me," Titus would tell them, and a twisted smile would cross his face. Not once would he blink, turn away or show any signs of fear in front of these officers. It was like the guy was incapable of showing any signs of emotion. "Because if you did, then any chance you have of finding the real madman would be gone forever. And you've already gone and talked with Katniss about who she might have thought it was, and what did she tell you...she didn't know! Same with Peeta. You talked to her about his friends and there wasn't a chance it would have been them. So if it's not one of her friends, and not one of Peeta's, then it's clear that it's somebody else, and you'll have no way of finding out who it is if you get rid of me. I'm the only one who knows who might be involved. I'm not saying I was working with somebody else. Maybe I wasn't. But as long as I'm alive, then I might just decide to reveal the true mastermind behind this whole crazy thing. But you gotta keep me alive for that. See, officers? Seewhat position you're now in? I'm the only guy who can help you in your little quest of finding the true rat in this equation. I'm the only one who'll help you figure out who it was that wanted Peeta Mellark dead."

Whether it was because he was too scared to reveal anything or that he just didn't care one way or the other what happened to him from that point on, not a word of truth came out of him. The full story of this gunman and his mission to kill Peeta would _forever_ remain unsolved and the _true villain_ behind the event would be left _hidden_ _,_ _invisible_ and safe from a lifetime in jail. But these officers wouldn't be giving up for a second. As long as they had Titus behind bars, then perhaps he would eventually decide to speak up and reveal to them the truth they were seeking. Titus was all but unpredictable and one could never guess what he might do next but as long as he was alive and breathing, then they still had a chance of unravelling the mystery behind the shooting at Madderson High and the person that had wanted Peeta Mellark dead.

After speaking with Dr. Aurelius, the second Katniss dropped the phone, the first person to enter her room was an eager Prim and trotting alongside her was an equally eager Buttercup who had just finished an early breakfast. The two jumped up onto Katniss's bed and when she thought about just how nervous and afraid she'd been to pick up the phone and hear about Peeta, there was no stopping the tears. So much fear had consumed her both physically and emotionally but that had all been destroyed the moment she heard Peeta whisper into her ear, " _Hi, sweetheart_."

Prim wrapped her arms around her sister and chirped with excitement, "He's gonna be _okay_! I _knew_ he would! I just knew that he'd be alright."

Katniss held Prim as tight as she could knowing that without the constant support and encouragement she'd provided for her over the past day, she might not have ever believed that Peeta would leave the hospital alive. If it weren't for her little sister always keeping an eye on her; getting her to check over her poems for English; showing her simple, but amusing tricks she'd taught Buttercup, and watching the occasional movie with her, Katniss wasn't sure where she'd even be at that point. Would she have crawled into bed, hid herself under the covers and insisted to never have to face the world again? Would she have lost any desire and craving to eat again? Would the smallest things in her life that had once made her smile and laugh suddenly cease to do so? She feared all of this might have been so if not for her _little sister,_ the girl that had always been and would always be there for Katniss.

"I know," said Katniss, and though her voice was shaky, it was only because of how truly relieved she was feeling. She pulled away from her sister, gave an appreciative smile and told her, "Thanks Little Duck for...for _being there_ for me. That means a lot. I don't know if I would have gotten through this without you."

Prim hugged her sister again and softly answered, "I'll _always_ be there for you, Bigger Duck."

Katniss whispered, "Thanks Prim."

Prim smiled and along with Buttercup, got off the bed and made her way towards the door. She gave a last look back at Katniss and said, "Mom's getting breakfast ready right now. She said as soon as we're done eating, she's gonna take you to the hospital so you can see Peeta."

"What's she making?" Katniss asked curiously.

"Your _favourite_!" Prim replied with one of her adorable grins. "Bacon, eggs, toast and pineapple juice. She wanted to make something really special, since it's going to be such a great day for you." With that, she then walked off with the cat following right behind.

As she watched them leave, she was suddenly hit with a realization. After having believed that she'd lost Peeta, she _now_ understood how her mother had felt when she'd lost her husband all those years ago. She'd felt the pain, longing and loneliness of not having Peeta around and that was exactly what her mother had dealt with, yet she was still trying to be strong for her daughters with each day that passed. Katniss decided right then and there that she was going to stop giving her mother such a hard time because she _now_ knew just what it was like to lose a loved one. The fact that she was putting together her daughter's favourite meal entirely on her own showed that she was genuinely happy that Peeta was alive, and that she was still doing all she could to prove to Katniss that she _was_ there for her.

Now that she knew Peeta was alive and well, the idea of a freshly made breakfast was starting to sound pleasantly inviting. She heard a slight grumbling in her stomach and knew that it was in agreement as well. After having thought food was nothing but bland and lacking in flavour for the past few hours, she couldn't wait to sit down and let the delicious, mouth-watering smell of bacon, toast and scrambled eggs rise to her nose. Even more, she could hardly wait to re-discover what crispy bacon tasted like, along with crunchy bread smeared in gooey jam, scrambled eggs with salt pepper and cheese and the sweetness of Pineapple juice. It was the perfect way to start off what would be an amazing day.

The breakfast proved even more appetizing than she'd expected. She gobbled the food up so fast and had the juice gulped down in under a minute that all she wanted was seconds and perhaps thirds. But the hunger for more lasted only a second because what she wanted more than a second plate was to see her boy with the bread, touch him and talk with him for what she _hoped_ could be a long while. She so badly wanted to see his eyes flutter open so she could gaze into the bright blueness of them; stroke the soft strands of his blond hair that fell over his forehead and above all, hear the gentleness in his voice that had spoken to her so many times and with each time, had pulled just a little bit more on her heartstrings. It hadn't taken long till he'd gotten into her heart so deeply that she knew without a hint of a doubt that she would forever be a gonerto this boy.

It wasn't until she was in the back of her mother's car and on her way to the Bernick Hospital that she started to feel the unmistakable fluttering of butterflies. The excitement that was pounding in both her head and her chest was just begging to get out and the closer they got to their destination, the greater the pounding became. The idea that she was on her way to see Peeta was almost too good for words, as if the whole thing – her sitting with Prim in the car, having eaten a great breakfast, Dr. Aurelius having called with the news he had – it was like it all felt too dreamlike and wonderful to be real. But it _was_ real and waiting for her at that hospital was _her_ Peeta Mellark who she knew would be _just_ as ecstatic and overjoyed to see her...to see his sweetheart.

When at last the Bernick Hospital came into view and they were pulling up into the vast, crowded parking lot, Katniss did the one thing she knew she would when she saw the place, and that was to break down crying.

Ten minutes later, Katniss was waiting outside Peeta's room along with Dr. Aurelius. Her mother and Prim were downstairs and both told her to not rush and take all the time she needed. Now that she was here and seconds away from meeting with Peeta, the overwhelming feeling of joy was stronger than ever. After all the fears that had consumed her since watching Peeta get shot, she was now about to be reunited with her boy with the bread. She needn't worry anymore because he was safe and sound, and the gunman who'd brought him here was now behind bars, trapped and unable to cause them any more harm.

The doctor gave a light chuckle and said, "He dozed off just a few minutes ago, but that's because he's been so tired what with having just come out of surgery and all. He's _really_ looking forward to seeing you."

Upon hearing the words, 'He's _really_ looking forward to seeing you,' Katniss couldn't help the smile that was creeping onto her face, or the tears that were forming in her eyes.

"Now, you can stay in here for a while," Dr. Aurelius explained to her. "He won't need to be checked on again for a little bit, but if you see anything happening – if he's having trouble breathing, or if he looks like he might go unconscious – just let us know, alright?"

"D-do you think that'll happen?" she asked nervously.

The doctor shook his head and said with certainty, "I don't think so. Based on what we've seen, we're confident he's going to make a speedy and healthy recovery. It's amazing though; we felt sure we'd lost him halfway through surgery but then out of nowhere he comes back and by the end of it, he leaves the surgeon, myself and every nurse flabbergasted. That's the only word I can use to describe how we all felt. Neverin the years that I've been at this hospital have I witnessed such... _such incredible determination to survive_. All I can say is that that boy was _blessed_ with a miracle. It's nothing short of a _miracle_."

He then turned and walked down the hall. Katniss watched him go and replayed his words in her head, as if realizing just how close she'd been to losing Peeta.

 _Never in the years that I've been at this hospital have I witnessed such...such incredible determination to survive. All I can say is that that boy was blessed with a miracle. It's nothing short of a miracle._

If what had happened with Peeta in the operating room _had_ been in fact a miracle, then she was just thankful that such a thing had occurred. If not for that, then the call she'd gotten from Dr. Aurelius would have been horribly different and rather than hearing that Peeta was alive, he would have given her the grim and devastating news that he _hadn't_ made it.

Not wanting to stand there any longer, she took a breath and quietly made her way into the room. When she saw him lying there, fast asleep, she couldn't help but give a tiny gasp, as if she were seeing him for the first time. She had expected him to be bleeding, coughing and generally to look like he was a damaged mess, but what she saw was just the opposite. Where his face had been pale yesterday, it looked like there was more color in it today; not much, but it was noticeable. The calm and peaceful look on his face suggested to her that he _must_ have been doing well, and if things continued the way they were now, then he'd definitely be out of there within two weeks, just as Dr. Aurelius had said.

Slowly, she made her way up beside him and stood next to his bed while staring down at his face. He looked so peaceful when he slept, and as he always did when he slept, he was snoring lightly. The sound of his snoring always got a laugh out of her because though it wasn't very loud or annoying at all, it was funny to hear how quiet of a snorer he was. She also thought it was adorable and reminded her how a child would snore.

She set the bag she'd been carrying on one of the tables. In it, was the photo album she'd put together just last night, as well as their mask that she'd painted in school, and a few other things. She'd made sure to bring both the mask and the photo album to give as gifts to Peeta so he'd have something to remind him of her while he remained in the hospital for the required two weeks.

She then returned to his side and gently put her hand on his head while running her fingers through his blond hair. She loved how soft it felt to the touch and if it would have been allowed, she would have stayed there all day just watching him sleep, never wanting to leave the comfort of being so close to him. The last time she'd seen him he'd been flat on his back on the hard floor of Madderson High in a lonely hall with a bullet in his chest. She'd had to hold him and as he'd asked her to, she'd sung the Valley Song for him and after that, everything had been so chaotic that she'd hardly remembered what had happened.

Now, he was sleeping soundly in front of her and under the safety and eyes of the doctors and nurses; he was as safe and out of harm's way as he'd ever be. Pulling up a chair, she put it next to his bed, took a seat and continued to stroke his hair, never wanting to leave or let go of him. She was so overjoyed to be there with him that she didn't want to think when she'd have to leave him and return home, where she'd have to wait for him to complete his recovery.

She shifted her gaze to his hands, and went on staring at them for the longest time. She was so focused on them that she hadn't noticed that Peeta's eyes were now fluttering open. He blinked, opened them and when he saw who was sitting beside him, he smiled as if he'd be happy to lie there gazing at her forever. His smile was one that lit up the entire room; it was one that filled the place with relief and delight.

"Katniss!"

Her reaction was instant. She left his hands and went right up to his head where she took his face in both her hands and not even seconds had passed before she was tearing up again. Her boy with the bread was awake and at last, after having missed him for so long...they were together at last. Waiting for the doctor's call had felt like such a painful eternity but that seemingly endless wait had eventually come to an end.

"P-Peeta!" she gasped, and lightly caressed his face. "Are you—"

He chuckled lightly and said, "I'm okay, Katniss. Don't worry, the doctors and nurses have been really good to me. They check up on me almost all the time." He gave a light sigh and said dreamily, "It's so good to see your face. I feel like I could just lie here forever like this."

"Are you in any pain though?" she asked quickly, and the thought of him being in any bit of discomfort was consuming her and she couldn't stop from bombarding him with questions. "Does your head hurt? Is your breathing alright? What about your—"

"Relax, Katniss," he said softly, and brought his hand up to her face. He held it there for a long moment and then smiled into her eyes. He could see just how worried and concerned she'd been and even now, with her being with him, she was still wanting to make sure he wasn't in the slightest pain. "The doctors say I'm healing remarkably well. They said I'll be good as new in about two weeks, and then I'll be okay to go back to school. I just need to stay here for the two weeks so they can keep an eye on me and make sure my body is recovering properly."

She locked her eyes on his, and then nodded and said, "Sorry. It's just...I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I know," he whispered in understanding. "But there's nothing to worry about _now_ , sweetheart. Everything's gonna be fine."

She nodded, and that was when he asked her gently, "Have _you_ been doing okay?"

" _Not really_ ," she said honestly, letting a tear fall onto her cheek. "It was...it was hard not having you around, Peeta. I can't really describe what it was like but it was just this feeling of emptiness. Everything felt so lonely and even when I tried to keep myself hopeful and positive, it just wasn't that easy. All I could think of was you sitting in the hospital and what the doctors were doing to you and if any of that was even working." She took a shaky breath out of sheer relief and told him, "I'm just so glad you're alive."

He brought his hand up to her head and slowly ran his fingers through her dark hair.

" _I am too_ ," he answered softly. After a long pause of silence, he then asked, "What about the gunman?"

"The police got him," was her quick response. "As soon as I told them he planned to come into the school and...and shoot you, they took him away and assured me that he wouldn't be escaping. He's now behind bars. His name was Titus. Apparently he wasn't from Madderson High. He was from Seamour High."

"Is everyone else okay? Nobody else got hurt?"

"Everyone's fine," she reassured him. "Nobody was shot and not a single bomb went off."

"I-It was the weirdest thing," he told her.

"What?" asked Katniss.

"Well, it's kind of hard to explain," he started. "But the second Titus raised the gun at me and told me he'd come to shoot me, it was like I knew what I had to do. But it wasn't just that either. I don't quite know how to say it, really. Only that I...I wanted to die as myself. Does that make any sense?"

Katniss only gave the smallest of a nod.

"I didn't want him to change me back there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I knew I wasn't. When he told me if I moved then he'd kill you and then bomb the entire school, I knew then that I couldn't move. I...I just couldn't think that selfishly. All I cared about was keeping you safe, and keeping everyone else safe as well. I really would have become a monster if I'd moved and let Titus blow up the school. He would have changed me."

Katniss didn't answer, for she was revisiting the hallway she and Peeta had been standing in while staring ahead at Titus and the gun he'd been holding on them.

"I guess what I really wanted was to think of a way to show Titus that he...that he didn't own me _._ I just kept wishing to think of I way to show him that I was more than just a piece in his games. I didn't want to go down and have him think that I was just another innocent victim that he'd managed to kill. I wanted to...to prove to him that he wasn't going to change me. I was still gonna be me even if it meant losing my life."

"I think he knew that, too," said Katniss quietly, remembering back to when she'd seen Titus getting taken away by the police and the look of defeat in his eyes. "He wanted you to die frightened and scared and feeling like he'd taken everything from you. But it was seeing you calm and standing there with me proved to him that you weren'tjust a piece in his games."

Peeta gave a small smile and said quietly, "And when I was in surgery, I got the strange feeling again,that I didn't just want him to think I was another piece in his games. I wanted to keep fighting and be strong and try and make it. And I heard the doctors and nurses talking afterwards and saying how it was the most incredible thing they'd ever seen. They thought they'd lost me halfway through surgery but then...then I came back. They weren't sure how it happened or what it all meant but they called it a miracle. They said I'd showed them a fighting spirit like they'd never seen before."

"You were fighting to stay alive then?" she whispered. "Even when you were so close to—" and here she paused briefly before continuing, "To dying...you still managed to pull through."

He nodded and told her, "All I could think of was that I'd made you a promise. Remember when you asked me, 'Stay with me?'"

"Yeah," she told him softly. "And you told me—"

"Always," he said, finishing her sentence. "And all I wanted so badly was to keep that promise to you."

She let a single tear slip down her face as she put her hand on his cheek and told him quietly, "And you did."

"I did," he said quietly, as if now realizing that he truly had overcome his fear of slipping out of reality and losing his Katniss forever. All the previous doubts he'd had of not getting through surgery and never getting the chance to see his sweetheart's face again had been wiped out completely. He had proven to be more than just a piece in Titus's games. And not only that, but he'd managed to keep his promise to Katniss as well, and that was probably the most joyous thought of all.

There was a brief pause, and then Peeta glanced over and noticed a small bag on the table. He figured the less they talked about the shooting, the better. The important thing was that Titus was now locked up and behind bars and even more importantly, the two could return to school and enjoy all the things they loved doing together like drawing, baking or just sitting and talking for hours.

He looked back to Katniss and asked curiously while pointing to his left, "What's in the bag?"

She got up and walked over to the table. She took the bag and then returned to Peeta's side where she started digging through it. He glued his eyes to the bag as if trying to guess what might possibly be inside. The first thing she pulled out was a large yellow card with the words 'THINKING OF YOU' written in dark orange letters in the center. She handed it to Peeta and when he opened it up and read what was inside, he couldn't help the smile forming on his face. Not only had Katniss and his family been thinking constantly of him, but his friends at Madderson High had been as well. Each of them had signed their names and written a short message to him. As he read through each of their words, he realized just how great of friends he had and that if ever he'd need them for anything, they'd always be there. Katniss's friends had even signed a brief message and he knew that they must have been by her side as much as they could while trying to keep her strong. Their messages had consisted of:

Cato – Get well soon buddy. Miss chatting with you in math and seeing Ms. Coin freak out because we weren't doing our work. Definitely not the same without you here.

Marvel – Hope you recover soon, Peeta. It's weird and uncomfortable not having you around. Not seeing you coming into the cafeteria to have lunch with Cato and I just hasn't felt right. Stay strong and try and make a speedy recovery, pal.

Johanna – Can't believe what happened with the gunman. It was crazy to think that something like that would happen to you and all I can say is that I know you'll do whatever you can to come out of that hospital alive. Keep fighting, Peeta and remember that we'll always be here for ya.

Glimmer – Please get better soon, Peeta. Katniss hasn't been the same without you and it's hard seeing her like this. Know that she and all of us are thinking of you right now, and we all miss you.

Clove – What you did was incredibly brave, Peeta, and I still can't get over what happened. Know that all of us are hoping for the best and that you make it through this. You're in our thoughts.

Delly – I've been thinking of you all the time, Peeta. Every minute of every day I'm worrying and wondering about how you're doing and if you're alright. It's scary to think that what happened with that shooting wasn't a horrible dream but real and you're now in the hospital because of it. I truly hope and pray that you'll make it through this and come back to me, your friends and most importantly – to Katniss. Everyone misses you and Katniss misses you terribly. We'll be with you in spirit every second as you try and recover.

Gale – Still in shock after hearing what happened with Titus. Katniss hasn't been herself and thinking that the worst might happen and that you might not make it through this is scary. I've seen how much you mean to her and I don't think anyone will ever truly be able to heal her completely. Only you can do that Peeta, so please stay strong, keep fighting and know that we're hoping for the best.

At first, Peeta was slightly surprised to see that Gale had signed the card and written him a message, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. It was clear that Gale had gotten over feeling jealous towards Peeta and now that he and Katniss had agreed on remaining best friends, it shouldn't have come as much of a surprise to him to see that Gale didfeel concerned. He knew that Peeta meant the world to Katniss and because he was such good friends with her, of course he'd be upset and distressed at seeing his friend so afraid. It was reading Gale Hawthorne's words that he wasstarting to feel more and more comfortable with him. No longer did he have to fear him trying to get he and Katniss apart and make a move on her himself because he was now accepting that the two were happy together and he knew that as long as Gale knew that Katniss was happy...then he was just as happy.

He put the card on the small table beside him and smiled while telling Katniss, "I'm really lucky to have such great friends."

"And I got you these," said Katniss, and pulled a small vase out of the bag. The vase was decorated in interlocking swirls of bright orange and red. She then placed a pretty bouquet of flowers in it, set it on the table next to the card and as Peeta looked more closely, he remembered where he'd seen them before – down by down the lake. It was only down by the lake where they'd come across the vast patches of wildflowers that came in every color imaginable. Now, staring at them in the vase, they appeared more like a vivid rainbow to him than ever before and suddenly he couldn't wait to return to the lake with Katniss again. He couldn't wait to go back to their special place.

"Just as pretty as I remember," he whispered, and gave her an appreciative smile. "Thanks, Katniss."

Katniss gave a smile and when she pulled out the second item, he was dangerously close to crying because what she'd revealed from the bag was a fully painted mask. It took him only seconds to realize that it was their mask. It was the mask they'd planned on painting together. He was going to paint as many treats – cookies, cakes, brownies, bread – as he could on his side and on hers, she was going to fill it with different colored mockingjays. As he looked it over, all he could think was how beautiful of a job Katniss had done painting it.

"That looks amazing," he told her. "Can I see it?"

When she'd handed it to him, he went on staring at it and inspecting it from all angles. He loved the various shades of colors she'd used for the birds – the golden yellows, emerald greens, violet purples, royal blues, pallid whites, crimson reds – they all made the mask present itself as a true piece of art. He then turned his attention to his side of the mask and when he saw what she'd done with it, he broke out in another smile. Painted delicately on his side of the mask were cookies, cakes, bread, cupcakes, brownies and even the delicious cheese buns she'd grown to crave. They were all there and the way Peeta saw it, he couldn't have done a better job himself.

"You did such a good job," he said, handing it back to her. "Did Mr. Odair see it?"

"He let me keep it," said Katniss. "He said I could show it to you but before that, when I showed it to him, he barely even looked at it and said we'd gotten an A+."

"An A!" Peeta exclaimed. " _Really_?"

"Yeah," said Katniss. "I was pretty shocked when he said that, since I've never gotten that kind of mark before."

"You've gotten a lot better with your skills," Peeta commented. "Seems like just yesterday you were saying how bad you were with art, but look at you _now_. You're an artist now."

"I learned from the best," she said with a smile.

He gave a small grin and said, "Glad I could help."

She put it on the table beside him and said, "Here. I want you to have it. You can keep it here till you come home."

"You sure you don't want to take it?"

"No, I'm positive," she said quickly. "I don't want you to be stuck here for two weeks without anything to have to look at. There isn't a whole lot to look at besides the walls, which aren't exactly colourful. At least this way, you can add a bit of color to the room."

He looked around the room and then said, "It _is_ kind of dull, isn't it?"

"A little," she said.

"It'd be nice to have a painting in here," he added. "Maybe one of the ocean, or a sunset, or anything nice to look at. Not much fun spending the day staring at a blank wall."

She then reached her hand back into the bag. What she next pulled out was the small green-colored photo album that she'd filled with pictures just the previous night. She ran her hand along the front of it, and then quietly handed it to Peeta. He took it gently and then he too ran his hand along the front of it while reading the words in the center.

"Our Memories," he whispered.

"I put it together last night," she told him softly. But as she thought back to that night, she couldn't stop the few tears escaping from her eyes. She'd been so afraid that Peeta would never get to see a book with photos of them doing everything and anything together. She'd feared that the only set of eyes that would ever look upon the album's photos would be _hers_ _._ Knowing that Peeta was right there beside her sent an overwhelming feeling of comfort through her entire body. The seven photos that made up the album weren't to be the only ones, as they could now go on creating _many more memories_ that would be added to the precious book.

He opened the book and the first memory he was met with was the one he'd originally suggested to her, which was their first day in art class. It had been when the two had officially met and from there, a friendship and eventual romance had blossomed. Followed by this were: the paintings they'd done of the three cupcakes and mockingjay pin; the two having lunch in the cafeteria; sitting down by the lake where they'd shared their first kiss; eating cake and studying for an algebra test, playing Truth or Dare at Glimmer's party and finally, another trip down to the lake while feasting on soft, warm cheese buns. Their book of memories had begun and he looked forward to watching the book grow with _many_ , _many_ more good times to come.

The two spent close to thirty minutes going through each of the pictures and re-visiting all the laughs, smiles, romance and jokes that they'd shared. It felt good to look back on all that they'd done so far, and it felt even better to think just how many _more_ memories would soon be added. It was after they'd closed the book and set it next to the mask, that Peeta remembered something.

"Hey, I almost forgot," he said to Katniss.

"What?" she asked.

"I'm gonna be back to school in two weeks," said Peeta. "That means by the time I get back, it'll be the first week of December. You know what that means?"

She gave him a puzzled look, and then he smiled and said, "A dance!"

"Oh yeah," she said, suddenly remembering. Madderson High always held a dance the beginning of every month and since December was fast approaching, another dance was on the way.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go with me," he smiled. "I've heard a lot of people say the dances are pretty awesome."

"Okay," said Katniss. "That'll be a fun thing to do before we'll have to study our butts off for the next math test."

" _Ugh_ ," was all Peeta said.

"You _always_ say that when it comes to math tests, Peeta!" she said, and burst out laughing.

"Oh, I _know_ ," he said. "I'm really happy that my math skills have improved and all but I'm still not the biggest fan of ugh...math."

She shook her head in amusement and said, "Only one more month and then it'll be done. Then we're into second semester."

An hour later, Dr. Aurelius had returned and politely asked if he and the nurses could be alone with Peeta to perform another assessment. Katniss remained sitting as she turned to the doctor and asked quietly, "Can I give him a...a kiss good-bye before I go?"

"Of course," said Dr. Aurelius.

Katniss moved up to Peeta, put both her hands on either side of his face and let the warmth of his skin flow right through her. He stared right into her eyes and then before he had time to think much of anything else, he felt her soft lips pressing against his own and without even realizing it, he'd closed his eyes. He brushed his lips against hers and for a brief moment he felt her sucking on his bottom lip, and then a few seconds later, he felt her slowly pulling away. She held her forehead against his for just a little bit longer, and then whispered, " _See you soon_."

He gave her one last quick kiss on the lips and whispered back, " _Bye,_ _sweetheart_ _._ "

Though it wasn't easy to have to leave him, she knew Peeta was in the best hands and that in two weeks time, she and him would be getting ready for a dance, which would become yet _another_ memory they could add to their growing album. With that pleasant thought in mind, she gave him a smile and then made her way out the doors and downstairs where her mother and sister were waiting for her.

"She seems to really care about you," Dr. Aurelius observed. "You have a _wonderful_ girlfriend, Peeta."

Peeta lowered his head back onto the pillow and answered softly, "The best in the world, Doctor."


	42. Chapter 42

**CHAPTER 42**

 **NOVEMBER**

During the two weeks Peeta spent at the Bernick Hospital, he found his strength returning with every day and soon enough, he was itching to finally be able to go home with his family. Both the doctors and nurses were able to see his incredible improvement and though most had feared that he wouldn't make it through surgery it came as a big surprise to all of them when he _did_ survive. He'd been on knocking on death's door but from somewhere there came something that the nurses could only convince the doctors was a miracle. Peeta wasn't entirely sure whether it had been a miracle, or if he was just extremely lucky, but whatever the case, only one thought had been lingering in his mind the second the bullet got shot into his chest, and that was that he'd made a promise to Katniss. She'd asked him, _"_ _Stay with me?_ _"_ and his immediate answer had been, _"_ _Always_. _"_ Despite the fact that he'd been wounded and as close to death as one could find themselves, he'd pulled through and _kept_ his promise.

When the two weeks were up, and Dr. Aurelius was standing at his beside while performing a final assessment, the only thing Peeta was thinking was: _I_ _can't wait_ _to get home._

After a few minutes of checking his patient's vital signs – pulse rate, breathing, blood pressure and assessment of pain – the doctor gave a pleased smile and said, "Well, everything looks great, Peeta. Two weeks in the hospital and you've made just as healthy a recovery as I've ever seen."

"So does that mean I can now go—"

"Yes, Peeta," the doctor chuckled, still smiling. "You're free to go home now."

Peeta's face lit up and all the memories of his home came flooding back. Though he'd only been in the hospital for a period of two weeks, it had felt like a lifetime. No longer would he have to wake up in a bed in a room with hardly any windows, paintings and have to realize that he was far from home...because he was _going home_. He'd be returning to all the things that defined his life and gave it enjoyment – decorating cakes, baking bread, painting and drawing – he'd be going back to all of that. Even better, there was something else he was looking forward to and he knew that _he_ was probably even more excited about it than Peeta was and that was getting to spend time with Rye. Not once in a very long time had the two done anything remotely fun together. Never did they go to a movie, a party or simply sit down and talk about all the things that brothers talked about.

All their relationship had been for so many years was constant conflict. Al the times that Rye would push him away and try and distance himself from Peeta was now a thing of the past. It would be _forgotten_ and put in the back of _both_ their minds and above all...would be forgiven. It was now a time to forgive, and step into a much brighter future.

Where some brothers would never even think to forgive such torment, Peeta wasn't the kind of person to stay resentful and hold a grudge. And as Rye had been his dearest friend as a child, it had been difficult to let go of someone who'd meant to much to him. He was just happy that he and his brother could now finally start anew and have something he'd always wanted to have again with Rye and that was _friendship_ _._ The kind of friendship the two had forged while growing up had been nothing short of brotherly love. And now after years of patiently waiting, he was about to re-discover the best friend of his childhood…and he couldn't have been any more thrilled.

It wasn't until Peeta was in the back of his father's car and they were at last leaving the place that had been his home for two weeks that it hit him – he was _going_ home. To his _real home_ _._

"I've got five new games for us!" said Rye excitedly. "Still wrapped and waiting to be opened. I've played my old ones too many times, so they're not that fun anymore, so I figured it'd be cool to get some new ones."

"Uh, that's because you play them _all_ the time," Luchi remarked, letting out an amused laugh.

"Yeah, but you play them too," Rye shot back with a smile. "Let's not forget that."

"But not as much as you, bro," Luchi pointed out. "You're like addicted."

"But it's a fun addiction," said Rye with a grin. "Can't argue with that." He then turned and looked at Peeta and said, "So you still think you can win the title for Best Gamer?"

"Absolutely," said Peeta with confidence.

"Can't wait to prove to you how _wrong_ you are," said Rye teasingly, giving him a friendly nudge in the shoulder.

"Like I said before," said Peeta, and stared his brother right in the eye. "You're on."

"Hmm, sounds like it's going to be an intense competition," said their mother with a chuckle. "I'll have to make something special for the occasion. Maybe cookies?"

"Oh, it's gonna be," Rye declared. "I'm gonna kick butt _big time_. Count on it."

"Already told you, Rye," Peeta threw in. "It's _your_ butt that _I'm_ gonna kick, and there's nothing you can do about it. That title of Best Gamer is gonna be mine. Crown and all."

"We'll see, little bro," said Rye, giving him an exaggerated stare, but Peeta could see the forming grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "We'll see."

So far, Peeta had only known the new Rye for a short while but one thing was certain – he _loved_ him already. Gone was the obnoxious slug that liked tormenting and boasting about how much better he was than his brother. Peeta could now joke with Rye and rather than Rye glare at him and try and force him to the ground for yet another assault, he'd just laugh back. It was a good feeling to be able to joke with him, and not only that, but they could have friendly arguments as opposed to the ones they used to have which only led to a nasty fight.

It was also soothing to think that his mother was now going to start acting more nicely towards him. All his life, she'd done nothing but scold and yell at him for messing up or doing something as minor as dropping a loaf of bread on the floor. But that, like Rye's behaviour, was to be a thing of the past as the five of them looked ahead into a future that would bring them closer together than they could have _ever_ imagined.

As soon as the car started to pull into the driveway, Peeta looked out the window and stared as if he'd been gone for an entire year, when he'd really only been gone for fourteen days. But with it having felt like so much longer than just two weeks, it _really_ did seem like he was coming home for the _first_ time; it was an odd, but comforting feeling. The second his father turned off the car, Peeta opened the door and hopped out, and was quickly followed by Rye, Luchi, his mother and then his father. They stood beside Peeta, who could only keep his unblinking eyes on the house as if he were stuck in a trance.

"Welcome home, son," was all his father said, and put an arm around Peeta. He then added sincerely, "It's _good_ to have you back."

"Thanks, Dad," said Peeta quietly.

He was so mesmerized by the sight of his house that he'd hardly heard what his father had said. After having gotten a bullet in the chest and getting struck with the immense, haunting fear that he'd never see home again, emotions were running high in his head.

He probably would have stood there for an hour and just cried at the joy of simply being alive if Rye hadn't taken his hand and forced him to walk towards the house and the front door while saying eagerly, "Come on, Peeta!"

Peeta gave a last look at the house and then followed his brother up to the front door. Rye unlocked it, and then opened it up, letting everyone in. He then closed the door and saw Peeta stuck in yet another obvious trance as he looked around at all the things he hadn't seen in two weeks – the beautifully decorated cakes and cupcakes, the pastries and the many freshly made loafs of bread – they were all still there. In two weeks he hadn't seen the bakery and in two weeks he hadn't been able to enjoy himself by designing the cupcakes, which was the single best thing he liked doing. Rye could tell how shocked and overjoyed Peeta was at being home and it made him all the more relaxed, because though he'd seemed confident and reassured that his brother would most definitely return home, there'd still been a fear deep down that the worst might happen, and that was Peeta's death. He'd had to ignore the constant fear of something going wrong and the doctors and nurses not being able to stop it from worsening. It had been eating him up but when Dr. Aurelius had made the call to inform them that Peeta was indeed recovered and all set to leave, all his fears had been washed away.

He watched his brother for the longest time and for some reason, he was hit with such overwhelming joy that he _wasn't_ going to be an ass to his little brother anymore. It was like he was finally understanding just how much of an impact his brother getting shot had had on him. What had truly done it was seeing Peeta's still, potentially lifeless body getting lifted into the back of the ambulance and fearing that he would never see his little brother again. He figured seeing Peeta standing there looking so calmed and delighted to be home made him truly realize how great things were going to be between them from that point on. They were now officially friends and the days of him treating Peeta as if he were his enemy were thrown out the window _completely._

 _I swear, Peeta...I'm gonna be a great brother to you,_ thought Rye. _I'm done treating you like dirt. I'm never gonna be mean to you again, I promise. You're gonna be treated good..._ _really good_ _, just like you deserve little bro_. _If you ever need me for_ _anything_ _, I'll be there_.

A few hours later, Peeta and Rye were upstairs sitting in the living room and both their eyes were fixed intently on the TV. For an hour straight now, the two had been fiercely battling it out for the title of 'Best Gamer' and so far, Rye was winning. But as Peeta quickly demonstrated, he was a tough competitor and every so often he'd take the lead and leave his brother in shock. The atmosphere in the room was tense and when Luchi casually walked by, he stopped and looked at Peeta and Rye and his eyes widened.

"Now _that's_ what you call intense," Luchi declared, and turned his attention to the flashing screen. He then asked casually, "So who's winning?"

"Me," said Rye, and quickly hit one of the buttons on his controller while keeping his eyes glued to the screen. "But it's close. Peeta's gonna beat me if I don't keep it up."

"I _am_ gonna beat you!" said Peeta excitedly. "No chance of stopping me now. You're goin' down."

"Not yet, I'm not!" Rye shot back, and made an expert move that scored him a few points. He let out a victorious, "Yes!" and then immediately returned his focus back to the game.

Luchi watched for a little bit longer, then turned and walked off while calling, "Good luck, Rye. Peeta's gonna kick your butt big time."

Halfway through the game, their mother came in and put a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and two glasses of milk on the table for them. But when she saw the intense, focused looks on both Peeta and Rye's faces, she knew not a single cookie would be eaten until the game had ended and the winner was revealed. She chuckled to herself while turning to make her way back into the kitchen to help her husband in getting supper started.

Ten minutes later, the competition had come to an end and Peeta had come out as the winner and was presented with the title of 'Best Gamer." It had been a close game, and several times Peeta had been convinced that Rye would easily snatch victory right out of his grasp but Peeta had then turned the tables on Rye by playing harder than he'd ever played. Halfway through the game, their mother had even come in to give them a plate of freshly baked cookies and it was then that Peeta got his first feeling of appreciation towards the changed woman his mother had become. The harshness, coldness and strictness that had once been her identity had been wiped clean and in its place was a much nicer, and more thoughtful one. In a way, though him getting shot had been nothing short of tragic and had left everyone stunned, there was _some_ good that came out of the frightening event. His brother, who had lived an entire life as a despicable slug and his mother, who'd been nothing but cold and insensitive towards her son, had both been drastically changed. One might have thought they'd changed so completely that they were no longer the same people. He concluded that if anything good had come out of him getting shot and spending two weeks in the hospital while recovering, it was that _both_ his brother and mother were now seeing things in a new, different and much clearer light.

When the two were finishing their last cookie, Rye held his hand out to Peeta.

"Great game," he commented. "It was pretty wicked. I've played some games with Luchi before but no game I ever played with him was as intense as that."

Peeta took his brother's hand, gave it a shake and answered, "Thanks. You almost had me there, though. Thought for sure you'd win with how good of a gamer you are and all. I mean, you've been playing a lot longer than I have. You've got loads more experience."

Rye shrugged and said, "Yeah, but you've got some pretty mad skills there, bro. I bet you could even take Luchi, if you wanted. He don't play much when he does...man, watch out." There was a brief pause, till Rye told Peeta sincerely, "We'll have to do that again sometime. It was really fun."

"Definitely," said Peeta. "I'd love to try out those other games you bought."

Rye nodded, then got up and was about to head downstairs when Peeta called, "Rye?"

He turned around and asked, "Yeah?"

"Remember a long time ago when I came to you," he started. "And I told you I had to thank you for something? Remember how I said that when you went and told Katniss how I felt about her and how I've loved her for as long as I had that I was actually happy you did that? Well...I meant what I said back then. I know you might still feel bad for having done it, but if you hadn't told her all that, then who knows if I would have ever gotten the courage to go up and tell her myself?"

Rye said nothing in response. He just listened to his brother and rolled the words around carefully in his head.

"So in a way, Rye," Peeta continued. "It's because of you that Katniss and I are together. _You're_ the one that told her how much I loved her. It wasn't _me_...it was you. I won't lie, I was pretty embarrassed and all at first but that happened so long ago that now I'm just thankful that you went and did what you did. You helped me get together with the girl I love. I don't know what else to say but... _thanks_ for that, Rye."

Rye smiled and with a chuckle said, "Who would have thought that me trying to embarrass my brother would actually turn out for the better and get him exactly what he wanted?"

" _Really_ ," Peeta agreed. "Guess _good_ results can sometimes come out of _bad_ intentions."

Rye chuckled again and said, "Well, glad I could help, Peeta. If you ever need my help for anything, just come and find me and _don't_ worry...I _won't_ be humiliating you anymore."

"Thanks, Rye," said Peeta sincerely. "I appreciate it."

Just as Peeta was turning to head downstairs for a quick snack, Rye called, "Hey!"

"Yeah, Rye?" asked Peeta.

"Did you almost forget what tomorrow is?" said Rye, and the excitement was creeping into his voice.

"Course I didn't," said Peeta with a smile. "It's Thanksgiving Day."

"I know!" said Rye excitedly, and already his mind was on how great of a time it was going to be. "Turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, oh man. I don't even think I can wait that long."

Peeta chuckled and said, "Gonna have to though. Thanksgiving's not till tomorrow."

Rye paused for only a moment, and then said sincerely, "And it's gonna be the best Thanksgiving ever...because you're gonna be here with us."

"Thanks, Rye," said Peeta, just as sincerely. _I've got so much to be thankful for too. I couldn't ask for anything better than getting to come home and be with my family. I'm just so glad I got to come home to everything I missed while I recovered. You don't realize how much people mean to you till you're taken from them._

It felt like forever for Thanksgiving to arrive but once the day had come to an end and tomorrow had come rolling around, it proved to just as great of a day as both Peeta and Rye had hoped it would be.

The two woke up early and around noon, everything had been prepared. The turkey was stuffed, seasoned with just the right amount of pepper and salt, put into a large pan and then placed in the oven. Along with that, the potatoes were peeled and cut and the peas, corn and carrots were all put into pots. Also part of their meal would be a squash, cranberry sauce, rolls and a delicious gravy that their father made every year and for dessert would be a strawberry rhubarb pie. Rye feared he wouldn't be able to get through the entire day without picking at the turkey at least once, but somehow he managed and when at last everything had been cooked, the table was set and everyone was gathered with their plates filled and stomachs rumbling...Peeta was hit with such an overwhelming sense of joy.

What had done it was sitting at the table and getting to look around and see his two brothers, mother and father all there with him. It was seeing all their faces and the obvious smiles on them that confirmed that it was indeed going to be a great holiday, and he hoped things to come would be just as amazing. _I can't believe I'm home. No more sitting on a hospital bed and having nothing to look at but four walls. I'm actually home!_

"This looks awesome," said Rye, and felt a familiar rumbling in his stomach. "Great job on the turkey, Mom."

"Thank you," his mother replied, a smile on her face. "I think this year's turned out the best."

"I'd say," Rye agreed. "And Dad? Gravy's perfect like always."

"Thanks, son," his father said, and then added with a chuckle, "No one makes a homemade gravy quite like myself."

"I see you got into the turkey a bit early though, Rye," said his mother who was holding back a smile. "Just as I was coming out to check up on it I noticed there was a pretty big section missing."

"Right," said Rye slowly. "About that..."

"You're so guilty man," said Luchi, giving him a light punch in the arm. "If there's anyone that would have snuck into that bird, it's you." Turning to Peeta, he asked, "Right Peeta?"

"He's got a point," said Peeta, shrugging at Rye. "No one loves food more than you."

"Okay, okay," said Rye, his eyes still on the freshly-made turkey. "But can you blame me? I mean, look at that thing! Isn't it gorgeous?"

After chuckling at his brother's remark, Luchi said, "Yeah, the food's perfect." He then added in a sincere and heartfelt voice, "But the best thing is that Peeta's here with us."

Peeta smiled and despite the fact that it felt like a huge lump had crawled into his throat, he managed to say, "Good to be home."

Somewhere inside him, he thought he might burst out crying at the idea that he was finally home, but no tears were sliding down his cheeks. What he instead experienced was a comforting feeling of warmth knowing he was no longer alone and having to remain hours on end in a bed in a room with no paintings and color.

 _No more tests, lying in beds all day and wishing I could paint or bake something. Looks like I have a lot to be thankful for but that's definitely the one thing I'm most thankful for – the fact that I got to come home to my family. And I got to come home to Katniss._

Suddenly, the silence was broken by the unmistakable sound of someone's stomach gurgling. Everyone immediately looked to where the growling noise had come from and noticed Rye's eyes were staring hungrily at the giant turkey and the large bowl of steaming gravy next to it. He saw all four pairs of eyes on him, and when his eyes fell on Peeta, he saw his younger brother holding back a laugh.

"Well said, Luchi," Rye told his older brother. "Couldn't have said it better myself." He then asked excitedly, "Can we eat now? I'm starving and my stomach's getting kind of impatient."

His mother chuckled and said, "Yes. Everyone dig in."

"YES!" shouted Rye with obvious excitement, and he rubbed his hands eagerly and reached out for a few slices of turkey.

Peeta couldn't hold back his laughter any longer and at the sound of his laughing, Luchi soon found himself laughing. It wasn't long before their parents were laughing as well. For the first time, the Mellark family was laughing together and the longer Peeta went on listening, he found himself coming to a conclusion. Never had he known what it was like to hear his parents and brothers laughing in harmony but hands down it was one of the most beautiful sounds he'd ever heard. To know that they were all now on a path to entering a brighter and more pleasant future was something he was beyond thankful for.

To be able to eat, talk, laugh and spend time together and truly feel like a family was what he'd been wishing for his entire life.

And there were simply no words to describe what that now felt like.

The feast proved more delicious than any of them could have guessed, and it felt like Peeta was eating the world's greatest meal. During his stay at the Bernick Hospital, he'd never gotten the chance to eat anything special – he'd mostly eaten things like soups, yogurts, cereal and toast – so turkey and mashed potatoes covered in a warm, gooey gravy was all but the tastiest meal he could have asked for. He could tell Rye was enjoying it just as much because he hadn't even finished what remained on his plate before his older brother was heaping his plate with seconds. Peeta ended up helping himself to seconds as well, but he knew there'd be no chance of him eating for at least a few hours because his stomach was now screaming for a break.

"I'm stuffed," said Peeta, leaning back in his chair. "I don't think I'll be eating anything else tonight."

"Really?" asked Rye. "Because I think I'm gonna have some thirds."

Peeta gave his brother a dumbfounded look and said, "Are you serious?"

"Absolutely!" said Rye. He paused for only a moment before he burst out laughing and told Peeta, "Just kidding. No way can I eat more. I'd probably retch if I did, and that wouldn't be good."

"Got any room for pie though?" asked Peeta. He took the pie with both hands and slid it towards them. He got himself a clean plate and began cutting himself a piece while staring at Rye with a smile on his face. Rye dropped his gaze to the appetizing piece now on Peeta's plate and all he could think was that there was no better dessert in the world than pie.

"I've always got room for pie, little bro," said Rye with a wink. "No more turkey though or else I'll throw up for sure."

"Same here," said Peeta in agreement. He took an eager bite of the pie and when he felt the warm strawberries in his mouth, he decided that strawberry rhubarb was without a doubt his favourite flavour of pie. Strawberries and rhubarb was such a perfect combination and left him craving the second he'd cleaned his plate. There was no other pie he could think of that left him as content and satisfied and if his body would have allowed it, he might have eaten the entire thing.

"Hey!" said Peeta, turning to face his brother. "You up for some gaming later?"

Rye swallowed, and with the smallest of a grin on his lips, said, "You're on."

"You're goin' down," was all Peeta said.

Rye shook his head and said, "Just wait, little bro. I've been practicing and I've gotten way better. The only one that's gonna be goin' down is you. Sorry to burst your bubble, but that's just the way it's gonna be and there ain't nothin' you can do about it."

"Oh yeah?" Peeta challenged, and took another bite of the pie.

Rye locked eyes with Peeta and said in his most dramatic voice to which Peeta could only chuckle at, "Oh yeah."

About three hours later, the two were sitting on the living room couch were the eyes on nothing but the TV and their focus on nothing but the game. Rye hadn't been kidding around when he said he'd gotten some extra practice in, and Peeta felt sure the guy was going to kick his butt. Halfway through, Peeta was able to turn the tables and for some while he thought he might actually win, but his brother always managed to come through and snatch victory out of his grasp. He barely had time to try and score the few points he'd need to walk out as the winner before the words 'WINNER – PLAYER ONE' were flashing brightly on the screen.

"Nice game," said Peeta. "You've definitely gotten better. You're way faster with the controls."

"Thanks, little bro," said Rye. "I'm gonna have to give you some pointers I picked up over the past while. Once I let you in some secrets, you'll be kicking butt."

"For sure," said Peeta.

"Man, I'm tired," said Rye with a yawn. "Think I'm gonna head up to bed."

"Sure you don't wanna go for another round?" Peeta offered.

Rye set his controller on the table, stretched his arms and said, "No way. I'll just doze off anyway and then you'll have no one to play with."

"Alright," said Peeta. "Tomorrow morning after breakfast though, you and I are having ourselves a rematch."

"Course we are," said Rye with a knowing smile. "But I'm still gonna kick your butt."

"That's what you think," Peeta shot back. He shut off the TV, turned back to Rye and said, " But you're better brace yourself because the only person that's kicking butt tomorrow is Peeta Mellark."

"I'll be ready then."

Only a minute or two had passed before Peeta asked suddenly, "What's that?"

"What's what?" asked Rye quickly.

"That," said Peeta pointing outside the living room window.

He was standing up on the couch and staring outside and when Rye saw the curious look on his face, he rose to his feet and looked out as well. The two lights on the patio deck were both on so they could easily make out the surrounding woods. But as they both looked harder, they saw the last thing they'd ever expect to see – a racoon. What with the bushy tail that was ringed with alternating colors of black and white, black fur around the eyes with the rest of its face covered in white, long whiskers, slightly rounded ears, there was no doubting the animal in their yard was a racoon.

It was such an odd sight that all the two could do was stare as if they were at a circus show and the racoon was the one performing. Though all it was really doing was picking at the grass and then raising its paws to its mouth and then going and repeating that same identical process. It might not have been doing any outstanding tricks like most circus animals would be like jumping through flaming hoops, but Peeta and Rye were all but eager to stand there and go on observing him. Though they were only an audience of two, the racoon didn't seem to care much. It wasn't a creature that gave too much thought into how many people were gathered to watch him go about his nightly foraging. All that mattered to him was finding food, eating it, finding all the food, devouring every last crumb while leaving nothing behind and then scurrying its way back into the woods.

The animal was sitting comfortably while running its hands through the grass in search of food. It was watching him doing this that it hit Peeta what his nose was smelling. Two months ago his mother had gone out and bought a couple of bird feeders which she had went and hung up on the branches of the trees out in their yard. Since then, they'd gotten a variety of different birds coming and feeding on the seeds – Violet-Crests, Scarlet-Beaks, and Emerald-Tails – and he realized it wasn't just birds that were interested in what was in the feeders. It was obvious the racoon outside was just as fond of seeds as the birds were. Not once did it stop running its skinny paws through the grass and Peeta couldn't help wonder how long this creature had been coming to their home. For all he knew, these seed-crunching critters have been visiting this place for months in the late hours of the night, all while he and his family were sleeping.

"Cool!" said Rye excitedly, his voice sounding like that of a child's. "I've only ever seen pictures of them. I've never seen a racoon up close before."

"Neither have I," said Peeta with just as much interest. "He's pretty big, isn't he?"

"He is," Rye agreed. He then chuckled and said, "Wait, I think he sees us!"

"He does!" said Peeta, feeling sudden excitement. "He's looking right at us. See?"

"And he's standing up on his legs," said Rye, letting an amused laugh escape his lips. Never in his life had he seen a racoon standing on its legs with its eyes fixed directly on him as if he was the world's most fascinating display. "Can't say I've ever seen one do that before."

"Neither can I," said Peeta, a grin tugging at both corners of his lips. Like Rye, he too was feeling greatly entertained at this critter that watched them with enquiring eyes while sniffing the air occasionally in hopes of coming across more fallen seeds.

"Let's feed him," Rye suggested.

"Okay," said Peeta. "What should we give him?"

"Oh, I know just the thing," said Rye and hurried off into the kitchen. A minute later, he came running back into the room and in his hands were several turkey slices. "You think he'll like leftover turkey?"

"He's gonna love that," said Peeta, and still his eyes hadn't left the racoon.

"Come outside with me," said Rye, opening the door and quietly making his way out. "That way you'll see him better."

"Alright."

The two made sure to move as quietly as they could out outside and onto their desk. Peeta was never good with being light on his feet but he did his best to pretend he was light as feather and somehow he was able to walk out onto the desk without making hardly any sound. Rye was much quieter and all Peeta could hear from him was his own breathing and even that itself was impressively silent.

When they reached the bottom portion of their desk and pressed themselves up against the railing, their visitor stopped what it was doing and glanced up at them. Never had the two been so close to a racoon before and up close, they could see it far better than they had from inside the house. They could see how small and black its eyes were, how long and skinny its fingers were, how bushy its tail was and how incredibly soft its fur looked. Rye would have loved to be able to run his fingers through the animal's fur but if by some chance he was able to get close enough to it, it likely would have ripped his face off anyway. The racoon might have been fun to look at and watch, but attempting to get close to it probably wouldn't have been such a wise idea.

"Hi!" said Rye in a low voice, waving his hand.

"Shh!" warned Peeta, putting his brother's hand down. "He might run away."

"Not if we're quiet," said Rye. "Racoons are shy but as long as you're not shouting or anything, they'll stick around. And it helps if there's food around. That never hurts."

"Where'd you hear that?"

"Watched it on TV once," said Rye with a small smile. "It was a show all about racoons. Pretty interesting, too."

"So they don't mind people watching them?"

"Well, it depends," Rye explained, recalling what he'd heard from the nature program. "Most are shy at first, but once they get to know you and they recognize you, they sort of adjust I guess. It's all about keeping quiet though, you know? As long as we keep quiet and not scream like banshees, then they don't care that we're here. The key to not scaring them though is giving them food."

"Sounds interesting," said Peeta, returning his eyes to the furry creature.

"They're trouble-makers though!" Rye went on, shaking his head. "They dig into people's garbage and make a big mess of stuff. Can't blame them though. If I was out hungry, then I'd probably do that too. Can't say there'd be any brownies though. They're too good to throw out. But yeah, other than that they're funny little guys."

He then lifted his arm and threw one of the chunks of turkey in front of the raccoon. It stared at them for only a few seconds longer before turning its attention to the delicious treat now in front of it. It reached out, took the turkey into its paws and wasted no time in devouring it as if it was afraid there might be other racoons lurking about. When it was finished, it looked right back up to Rye as if saying, "More please."

Rye threw yet another piece down and just like with the first, the racoon gobbled it up and both he and Peeta felt they could stand there forever and watch their new friend. It was amusing to watch him move his paws about through the grass and even more amusing to watch him staring up at them with a hungry expression that told them it was clearly enjoying the turkey snack.

"We should name him," said Rye thoughtfully.

Peeta chuckled under his breath and said, "Okay. Have anything in mind?"

Rye thought for a brief moment, and then said, "How about Ricky?" _He doesn't seem like a Jeffrey, not too sure about Sam, and he's definitely not a_ _Henry. But Ricky? That could work._

"Ricky?" said Peeta, and a smile was creeping onto his face. "Actually, he kind of does look like a Ricky."

"That's not a bad name is it?" Rye called to the racoon in a soft whisper. Either it didn't care one way or the other what name Rye decided to give it, or it was too occupied with devouring every piece of turkey and bird seed on the ground.

"Guess he's alright with it," said Rye with a shrug. "He isn't hissing." _It's a good thing you're not either because I'm not good with names!_

Still smiling, Peeta said, "Or maybe all he cares about is the food."

"That's not very nice," said Rye, and gave Ricky a disapproving glare. "Here I go through all the trouble to come up with a name for the little guy and all he can do is keep stuffing his face? Not even a thank you?"

Peeta burst out laughing and at once, the racoon picked up one of the largest pieces of meat, turned and hurried its way back into the woods. That sight alone was enough to make him laugh even harder and got Rye laughing as well, especially since Ricky had looked so hilarious scurrying back into the darkness of the woods. Neither had any doubts that Ricky was gone for good because if he'd been coming to their house for the past while to eat up the bird seeds, then of course he'd return to finish his turkey meal.

"Guess Ricky doesn't like loud noises," Peeta concluded.

"Gee, you think?" Rye chuckled, and then said, "Way to scare off our little friend, Peeta."

"I didn't mean to!" said Peeta, and added with a grin, "He's just shy, that's all."

"Let's check back in a few minutes," said Rye, and made his way up to the patio door. "No way Ricky's gonna stay in the woods when there's a bunch of turkey here. He'll be back."

"Okay," said Peeta, following his brother inside.

For the next hour, the two spent their time sitting outside watching their new friend. It had been no surprise to them when they turned on the outside lights and saw Ricky once again sitting by the turkey. It was obvious he wasn't afraid of them because they hardly made a sound and the fact that Rye had thrown him chunks of meat helped as well. It was amusing to watch him make his way through the grass while constantly feeling for seeds or other bits of food that might have been lying around. Sometimes he'd even sit like a person, or he'd stretch out on his stomach while reaching forward with his paws and puling the seeds towards him. The night got even more interesting when a second raccoon decided to join the feast and this one was even bigger than Ricky. It was much larger in size and just when Rye and Peeta were wondering if the two would break out growling and fighting over the food, they were taken aback when the two made no sounds of aggression at all. They were a few feet apart from each other and busy helping themselves to the dozens of seeds that were still in the grass.

"Maybe they know each other?" said Rye, confused.

"Maybe," said Peeta. "Or maybe as long as they keep their distance and have their own pile of food, there's no reason for them to fight."

"We should name this guy too," said Rye, and immediately started running through a list of names.

"So what'll his name be?" asked Peeta.

"Phil!" Rye exclaimed.

Peeta nodded and said, "I'd say he looks like a Phil. Alright. So we've got a Ricky and a Phil then. Wait, how do we know he's not a female? Or Ricky? They could be ladies you know, Rye. I don't think they'd be too happy to hear you calling them males when they're not!"

Rye shrugged and said, "Can't say for sure that Ricky's a girl because I can't really tell. I'll stick with my original guess and say he's a he." Lowering his voice so as not to scare the animal, Rye called out to Ricky, "And sorry if you're a girl! Just don't claw my face off, okay?"

"Don't worry," said Peeta with a grin, still examining the racoon with much interest. "If Ricky's a she, she'll leave you be. Just keep feeding her."

"Gee, that's great advice," said Rye, and gave his brother a pat on the shoulder. "Thanks, little bro."

"No problem," said Peeta. "But what about Phil? He could be a she too, you know."

"There's no way Phil's a girl, Peeta. No way."

"Why not?"

"Don't you see him?" said Rye and declared in as a dramatic tone as he could produce, "He's a big old, eatin'-machine man! That guy's all muscle. He's big, he's huge...and he's hungry."

"Wow," said Peeta, laughing quietly, and was dangerously close to bursting out in laughter at his brother's dramatic statement. "That pretty much says it all then. A big old, eatin' machine man that's all muscle who's big, huge and hungry."

"Yup," said Rye, turning to Peeta with a half smile. He paused only briefly before saying, "Wouldn't you agree?"

"Oh, I agree," was Peeta's response. "But I'd be careful if I were you."

"Why?" said Rye quickly. "You think I insulted him?"

"No, not that," said Peeta, and pointed over at Phil who was now staring up at them with an expression that was difficult to read. Was it hungry? Bored? Frightened? Curious? It was practically impossible to tell. "I just mean that if Phil's not really the big old eating machine you say he is and is really a girl, then we might have a problem on our hands."

"Nah, we're fine," said Rye, and looked directly at Phil, who averted his eyes from Peeta to the guy standing beside him. The two shared eye contact, and Rye called to him, "Because we both know you're a big, huge, hungry eating-machine. Right, Phil?"

The raccoon simply went back to searching the ground for more seeds as if whatever it was this person was saying, it was all but boring to him.

Rye and Peeta both chuckled under their breath.

"Okay, maybe it's not a problem then," said Peeta, enjoying this people-to-raccoons interaction.

"Nope," said Rye in agreement. "Doesn't matter if they're ladies or guys because all they care about are those seeds."

"Guess the birds are gonna have to share their stuff now," Peeta remarked.

"I can't believe another one came," said Rye, watching them in amusement. "I mean, it was cool to see just one, but two? What a night, huh? I bet there's a whole bunch of them in the woods. Well, if there are, then that's too bad because no way am I giving away all our turkey! No way fellas...if you want a feast, you're gonna have to find one yourselves. That turkey's ours. You know how long it took to cook that thing? Hours!"

"They'd love more turkey though," said Peeta, and could already envision the two racoons scrambling over every piece of turkey that he and Rye could provide them with.

"And I'm sure they would," said Rye, and said with a seriousness that Peeta could only shake his head in amusement at. "But nobody comes between me and food, Peeta. That's just a rule. It's a rule that must never be broken. You think I'm just gonna throw away perfectly good turkey? Just start throwing it all away? No way, man! We worked hard to get that bird ready. Those guys can get their own meal going because we sure as heck aren't going to start throwing it all away and—"

"Okay, okay!" guffawed Peeta, putting his hands up. "We keep the turkey. Happy?"

"Yes," said Rye quickly. "I don't kid around, Peeta. When I say I'm not feeding these two our mouth-watering feast, I mean it. That turkey's awesome!"

"But you fed Ricky and Phil," Peeta pointed out, fighting to keep from laughing. It was too amusing engaging in these sort of conversations with his brother because time and again he'd always have some hilarious response that would make Peeta want to laugh all over again.

"Ricky and Phil are special," was Rye's answer.

"And what makes them special?" asked Peeta.

Rye shrugged, thought for a moment and then said, "They kinda look like us."

Peeta nodded slowly, laughed under his breath and said, "We look like racoons, do we?"

"Yes."

"But we don't have bushy tails, whiskers, fur and we're not covered in black and white."

"I know that!" laughed Rye. "What I mean is the big one looks kind of like you. Okay, maybe you're not that big, but you're definitely bigger than me in size, so Phil would be you. And I'm Ricky because I'm small, skinny and a lot smaller than you. That make sense?"

"Ahh, I get it," said Peeta with a crooked smile. "So I'm Ricky and you're Phil."

"Exactly," said Rye. " Basically, if you and I were racoons, that would be us."

"And if we had a third one here, we'd have Luchi."

"True," said Rye. "But I'm not sure Luchi would agree he looks like a racoon, even if it did look like him."

"Yeah, maybe not," said Peeta. "Okay, scratch that. No comparing Luchi to racoons. Then again, I did compare him to a snowman."

"What?" Rye exclaimed, making sure to keep his voice down so as not to scare their new friends away. He then said while laughing under his breath, "Are you serious?"

"Yeah," said Peeta. "Katniss and I built a snowman and I said it looked like Luchi."

"What about it looked like Luchi?" asked Rye.

"Nothing, really," Peeta admitted.

"Then why'd you say it looked like Luchi?"

"It was tall," said Peeta. "Easily six feet tall and the only guy I know who's six feet tall is Luchi."

"Ah, I see," said Rye with a nod. "Well, I'd like to see his reaction if we told him you said he looked like a snowman and I said he looked like a racoon. Wonder what he'd do to us."

"Give us noogies," said Peeta with a shudder.

"Or tickle us to death," said Rye, and he too gave a slight tremble. "Maybe we ought to keep the him- looking-like-a-snowman-and-raccoon thing to ourselves."

"Yeah," said Peeta in agreement. "I kinda don't wanna risk getting a noogie."

"Or tickled to death," added Rye.

Peeta gave a quick chuckle and said, "Poor Luchi. He'll never know there's a snowman and racoon out there that looks just like him. It's too bad though that racoon won't come out. We could take a picture and then add that with the snowman one."

"Oh, but I bet he's in there," said Rye, staring intently at the woods and towering trees that looked so much like black shadows in the night. "That Luchi-look-alike. Guarantee you that's why he hasn't come out yet. He knows Luchi will come out, we'll tell him he looks like a racoon, and then he'll find every possible thing to say that proves he looks nothing like that bundle of fur."

"That could be it," said Peeta, and he too was staring into the woods, wondering if there were in fact other racoons that were debating about whether to make themselves known. It was near impossible to observe anything, what with how incredibly dark it was. The only light allowing them to watch the racoons came from their patio deck but aside from that, the yard was cast in a state of blackness.

"Guess raccoons like Thanksgiving Day just as much as we do," said Peeta, still watching the two racoons. By that point, they'd gobbled up all the turkey and had eaten almost every seed in the grass.

"I'll say," said Rye with a chuckle. "But I'm the king when it comes to all things food."

Peeta didn't respond.

"They might like food but me...I'm the master of food. I conquer it. I cook it, eat it...and then conquer it."

Peeta paused only shortly before telling Rye in a joking tone, "Bet they like it more than we do," and before he had time to say anything else, his brother's eyes widened, his mouth opened and as Peeta expected, the words came pouring out all too quickly.

"No way, bro!" said Rye with seriousness, licking his lips and suddenly feeling hungry all over again. Hearing Rye speak so seriously and dramatically about food was a thing Peeta never got tired of but no matter how badly he wanted to laugh, he kept a straight face and let his brother continue. "When it comes to Thanksgiving Day, no one and I mean no one eats up their feast with as much excitement as I do! I take my eating on that day very seriously, Peeta. No messing around, no dilly dallying...just me and the food on my plate. Those raccoons might like Thanksgiving Day but they'll have a lot of work to do if they wanna prove they like it better than I do." He turned his attention from Peeta to the two animals and added, "Hear that, guys? You got a lot of work ahead of you! I can eat three plates in a row, you know. Not kidding either."

"He's not," said Peeta, but the raccoons were too busy searching the ground for any remaining seeds that had fallen from the above feeders.

"I like talking to raccoons," said Rye thoughtfully. His elbows were now resting on the deck railing and both his hands were resting comfortably under his chin. "They're good listeners and they don't interrupt. Yeah, they probably care more about getting fed than hearing me ramble on but that's okay. I like chatting with them."

When he refocused his attention back to his brother, he saw Peeta was looking at him with an expression that was filled with amusement. One of his brows was raised just slightly, and the tiniest grin was tugging at the corners are his lips.

"Okay, I guess not a lot of people spend time chatting with raccoons, but they're awesome listeners!" With a shrug, Rye chuckled and admitted, "Yeah, I'm weird."

Peeta shook his head, laughed and said with a grin, "You're hilarious, you know that?"

"I try to be," said Rye. "But Ricky and Phil don't agree much, do they?"

"Hard to tell," said Peeta. "All they care about is getting all those seeds, but I bet if they could make out what you were saying, they'd be rolling on the floor with laughter. I know you get me in a good fit of laughter but I'd love to see how they'd react."

"Now that would be a wicked sight!" said Rye, and could already picture it clear as day in his head. "Two racoons rolling around laughing. Don't think we'll have much luck getting that to happen though, will we?"

"No, probably not," agreed Peeta.

Come nine o'clock, Peeta was crawling into bed for an early sleep. After having spent two weeks in the hospital, he wanted nothing more than to sleep in his own _bed_ , in his own _room_ , and in his own _house_. It had also been a busy day getting supper ready, but all the time and effort spent in putting it together had been worth it completely and had left him feeling better and happier than he'd felt in years.

As soon as he threw the blankets over him and he put his head on the soft pillow that had been his for years, a feeling of comfort and absolute safety came over him. His bed was one of the many things he'd missed so much during his stay at the Bernick Hospital because though the hospital beds weren't exactly uncomfortable, they couldn't compare to the softness and comfort of his own.

In less than ten minutes, Peeta had dozed off and was now in dreamland. Ever since he'd first been taken to the hospital, he hadn't experienced a single nightmare, nor had he seen any reappearances of the vicious hawk that he'd encountered so many times. He wasn't sure why, but all he knew was that ever since the nightmares had stopped, his nights had become much more peaceful and enjoyable. He even wondered if what the doctors and nurses had done to him had in some way gotten rid of the hawk itself. He hadn't the slightest idea how they could have done that, or if it was even possible, but he hoped that was the case because that meant he could now look forward to heading to bed every night. It wasn't until his eyes were almost closing that it finally hit him why the nightmares were coming to an end.

It was because he'd finally accepted and come to the realization that Gale Hawthorne wasn't a threat to his and Katniss's relationship like he thought he'd been. He'd believed that Gale, deep down inside him, was raging with jealousy that Katniss liked somebody else. But over the past while, he'd seen that the guy wasn't acting envious or bitter at all. He and Katniss were still best friends and were still talking and not only that, but Gale had even found love with another girl. No longer did he want Katniss because he now had Cashmere as the girl of his dreams and from what he'd seen so far, the two couldn't be happier.

 _That's gotta be it_ , thought Peeta, feeling sure of it. _Now that I know Gale isn't trying to break us up or do anything wrong, the nightmares stopped._ _I guess it took a long time to realize it but at least I know he's not the guy I thought he was. Maybe I just couldn't bring myself to believe that he could let go of Katniss and let her love somebody else but...he has_. _He's with another girl now and he and Katniss are still best friends. Then that means the nightmares really have ended. I didn't think they'd ever end but it looks they have._

He was convinced of it that his nightmarish hells were finally coming to an end and his sleeps would from then on be filled with pleasant, comforting dreams. It might have been true that his horrid encounters with the hawk were ending but what he wasn't aware of was the fact that his nightmares weren't. He was under the impression that his disrupted sleeps would transform into enjoyable ones but he was all too wrong.

He was completely oblivious and unaware of the fact that his nightmares were in no way leaving him.

The one last thought that crossed his mind before he nodded off was: _Seems like things are finally gonna get better_ _from here on_.

With a final yawn, he got himself comfortable, shut his eyes and once more entered the realm of dreams.

The dream he was in felt more like reality and he only wished it could go on forever. He and Katniss were down by the lake once again but this time, they weren't sitting down by the lake – they were up in the treetops. They'd been able to climb their way up one of the largest trees with almost no effort and had found themselves a long, thick branch to sit on while admiring the view. Everything looked so much bigger and grander from such an incredible height; it was the closest feeling to being a bird and experiencing how they would perceive things from way up high.

"This is beautiful," said Katniss. "It's like I don't want to stop looking at it."

"I _know_ ," Peeta agreed. "Takes your breath away, doesn't it? Staring at it from this high up?"

She laughed and said, "It does. I'll have to show Prim this. She'll be just as crazy about it."

Peeta was about to respond, but he was instantly cut off by what could only be described as a sound of _sheer terror_ _._

"Peeta!"

"Someone's calling for you," Katniss told him, looking around in puzzlement. "Who is it?"

"I-I dunno," said Peeta, and quickly started making his way down the tree. "But it sounds familiar. I gotta go see who it is."

She watched him climb down and called, "Peeta, be careful! You might—"

But it was too late. Peeta had already lost his grip and was plummeting down towards the ground which was a good fifty feet below him. It all happened so fast and so violently that he hardly remembered the force of the impact as his body slammed into the ground...because he was yanked out of the dream and brought back to reality. All he recalled was drawing closer and closer towards a giant, expanding hole and all too quickly, the dream was over.

When he awoke, he was panting and out of breath, but he wasn't as freaked or panicked as he usually was when faced with the killer hawk. It took him all of three seconds to remember that someone had been calling to him, and as he listened closely, he heard it again. The sound was filled with such fear that it made him want to get back under the covers and not come out because the person who was screaming was his brother, _Rye. There were a lot of sounds that frightened Peeta, but one of the worst, most haunting ones that could ever invade his ears was the sound of his brother howling._

He was out of that bed in less than a second. He bolted out of his room at full speed and hurried down the hall, took a right and rushed into his brother's room. He shoved the door open and went right to his brother's side. He leaned in close, took a look at his face and saw that Rye was clearly in the middle of a nightmare. He was murmuring words that Peeta couldn't quite understand, but before he had time to think about it much longer, Rye's lips began trembling and then another cry escaped his lips.

"Peeta! No!" he screamed, and then his entire body began to shake.

Peeta grabbed his brother by the shoulders and gave him a firm shake while shouting, " _Rye!_ Come on, man! _Wake up!_ "

Rye's only response was to shout even louder.

"Don't!" he was screaming wildly. " _Please_...don't!"

" _Rye!_ " Peeta shouted, and his voice was now close to a scream. "Snap out of it, Rye! Come on, man...wake up! It's only a dream!"

Rye gave a loud gasp and his eyes instantly flew open. He took a few deep breaths and when he noticed Peeta standing over him, he gave an even bigger breath out of pure relief. But then, as if the nightmare were coming back to him, a tear started forming in his eye and he let out a choking sort of sound.

Peeta kept a firm hand on his brother's shoulder and asked, "Rye, what's wrong? What was it?"

"I-It was you Peeta!" said Rye shakily, and he was struggling to return his breathing to normal. His breaths came out in loud, painful gasps and his whole body felt like it was growing cold as if the room was covered in snow. He ran his fingers through his thick, blond hair and then took another mouthful of air while trying to stay focused on Peeta.

" _What_?" said Peeta, confused.

"It was _you_!" Rye repeated, and the look of fear hadn't left his eyes as he went on, "Y-you were in the ambulance a-and the men weren't doing anything! I was telling them to get you to the hospital but all they did was s-stand there and smile! T-they just smiled! They just shrugged and said you'd be fine and that there was nothing to worry about but then...then y-you stopped breathing! I swear, Peeta, you stopped breathing! I was so scared. I tried getting past them to see if I could help you but they pushed me back and...and they kept me away from you. They wouldn't let me go near you. It didn't matter how much I t-tried to get you. They kept holding me back."

"It's okay though, Rye," said Peeta softly, and looked his brother right in the eye. "I'm right here...I'm okay. It was just a nightmare. Nothing's happened to me. No one's trying to do anything bad to me. I'm not in the ambulance anymore."

"But...but you died, Peeta!" said Rye with emotion, and Peeta could both see and hear just how disturbed his older brother was by what he'd just been forced to endure. It was written all over his face and it was all but palpable in his trembling voice. "You weren't just hurt and bleeding, you died! I swear, your heart stopped beating and it was like they didn't care! I thought they were gonna get you to help but they just stood there and did nothing!"

Indeed, it might have only been a nightmare and a string of horrific scenes unfolding in his head, but it felt all too real for Rye. It was beyond frightening, and his mind and heart knew this all too well. He himself knew that nightmares weren't a thing to be taken lightly as they could and most often would leave those who were forced to endure them shaken and afraid to fall asleep once more, for fear of getting thrown into another and even worse world of hell.

"They let you die! I kept telling them to get you to the hospital, but all they did was say I was overreacting and that you'd get b-better on your own. Then I looked at the ambulance and saw your body s-stop moving. You...you died! And that gunman was there, too! T-Titus. He had the gun in his hand, a-and he grinned at me and then started shooting at you and...and there was nothing I could do to save you. Those guys let you die and then let that killer start shooting at you!"

Peeta put both his hands on Rye's shoulders and said in a calm, soothing voice, "I'm _right_ here, Rye. I'm not dead. I haven't gone _anywhere_. I'm _right here_... _see_? Just look at me, okay? Try to forget about what you saw, what those guys told you. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not in that ambulance bleeding. Titus isn't here. He's behind bars and won't be hurting me or anyone else anymore."

Rye's only response was to go on staring up at his brother as if he was still fighting to believe that he was back in reality, and not still trapped in the endless horror.

"I'm not going anywhere, Rye," said Peeta calmly, keeping his hand on his brother's shoulder.

All that was of importance to Peeta right then was comforting his brother and returning his mind to a state of peace. He'd stay there all night if he had to if it meant erasing the startling images that were currently haunting Rye's mind. He knew what it was like to feel as if there was no escape, as if the nightmare occurring in one's head would go on forever till its victim was driven insane. He wasn't a stranger to it, and there no was no way he'd leave his brother alone in this room, feeling terrified to shut his eyes and have to face yet another fearsome assault.

Rye nodded shakily and whispered "Promise?"

Peeta gave his brother's shoulder a reassuring squeeze and said with absolute certainty, "I promise."

Rye calmed down a little, and nodded while putting his head back on the pillow. He looked convinced enough, so Peeta was about to turn and head back to his room when Rye grabbed his brother's arm.

"I won'tlet it happen again," he said quietly, but with authority.

"Let what happen?" asked Peeta. Hearing this new tone in his brother's voice had taken Peeta by surprise. It hadn't taken long for the quiver in his voice to change over to what Peeta could only describe as being absolute certainty. This new tone in his brother's voice sounded near identical to the certainty he'd used in his own voice just seconds ago.

"I _won't_ let you get taken from me again," was Rye's definite answer, and his eyes locked instantly on Peeta's. The fear from the nightmarish encounter was now fading from his eyes and replacing it was an intensity his younger brother had never observed in him before. Never had he looked into Rye's eyes to see such intensity, an intensity that felt like a strong and forceful wave rushing inside him. "I almost lost you once. I'm _not_ letting it happen again. I swear I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. I-I don't even care if something happens to _me_ _._ All I know is nothing's gonna happen to you, Peeta...I promise."


	43. Chapter 43

**CHAPTER 43**

 **DECEMBER**

Only a week ago Peeta had been constantly wishing for winter to hurry up and arrive. He loved the warm weather of spring and the heat of the summers just as much as anyone else, but there were so many things he loved about winter that made him believe it _really was_ the most exciting season. First off, there was Christmas which he and pretty much everyone else agreed on was hands down the single best time of the year. For him, though, Christmas hadn't been as enjoyable growing up as it should have been due to his family not having been very close over the years, and it usually ended up being a very quiet day where no one said a whole lot.

As for the last few years, presents would get exchanged, but never between Peeta and Rye. Not once in so many years had Peeta's older brother ever gotten him a present or even so much as a card said that 'Merry Christmas'. As for Peeta, he would have gotten Rye a present because he wasn't the kind of person to not give to others at Christmas, but there was all but one thing that had stopped him from doing so. There would have been no way his brother would have even accepted a present. He'd learned that to be true when he'd given Rye a gift when they were thirteen. All Rye had done was take the gift, smash it to pieces and tell Peeta that he didn't want any stupid present from him ever again and if he tried to give him one, he'd just do the same thing. Luchi would give him a gift, but wouldn't talk much or show much interest in whether or not Peeta enjoyed what he'd gotten him. He'd always get a gift from his mother because she and her husband would do their shopping together, so it was easier to give to their sons and sign their gifts as being from both of them.

In all, Christmas with the Mellarks had never been a truly enjoyable time. Where holidays were meant to be a jolly, relaxing and delightful opportunity for friends and loved ones to come together, this wasn't the case with them. For them, holidays were just another time of year that came and went, but held no significant meaning. Peeta, of course, loved the holidays and had wished for so long that he could share his love for it with his parents and brothers, but had never been able to.

But since that was now a thing of the past, he could now look forward to spending Christmas with his father, mother, Rye and Luchi...as a _family_ _._ It would be the first time in sixteen years that he could enjoy the holiday with them where they could laugh and joke at dinner, watch the snow falling outside, bake sugar cookies and do nothing but sit down, get comfortable and watch Christmas shows for hours. It was something he'd always wanted over the years but knew it was only wishful thinking but now it was reality – a beautiful, wonderful reality.

Luckily, he hadn't had long of a wait till snow was starting to fall and eventually, the grounds were left covered in blankets of sparkling white. The first snowfall hadn't officially started till two weeks into the month but it was now the fourth week of December and the outside world was covered entirely in white. It was also an exciting time not only because of the heavy snowstorm they'd _already_ gotten, but because it was finally the day he'd been so eagerly waiting for – Christmas Eve. He'd woken up that morning more lively and energetic than he'd been in a long while, and the day was only just starting. Rye had woken up early as well and was equally excited because he and Peeta had agreed that they'd be the ones to get the tree all lit up and decorated. Their father and mother would get supper prepared, cooked and then laid out on the table while Luchi would spend his time baking gingerbread cookies and he was even considering whipping up an apple pie if there was time.

The decorations around the house had already been put up since the five of them had taken care of that the previous week. Huge wreaths had been hung on all the doors; the various lights along the sides of the house were of colors of red and green and there was even a six-foot-tall snowman with a black top hat and a broom in its arm by the front door that glowed a bright bluish color. Peeta loved the look of homes at Christmas because no two houses were ever alike and every household had its own unique set of decorations that made them stand out from all the rest.

After Rye and Peeta had gone downstairs to collect the ornaments, lights and decorations, they carried all the heavy boxes upstairs and placed them in the center of the living room. There were about ten boxes in total and the majority of them held all the bulbs, ornaments, candy canes and strings of popcorn that would go on the tree.

" _Geez_ , that's a lot of boxes," said Rye, glancing from carton to carton while scratching his head. "I always forget how much stuff we actually have. Then come Christmas when we dig everything out it's like 'oh yeah, so _that's_ how many we have. And this stuff's heavy! Not easy for a guy like me to carry it all around. I'm kinda surprised I didn't drop it all." With a chuckle, he added, "Lot a stuff though."

"I know," Peeta agreed. "Shouldn't take too long to get them on the tree, though. There's two of us, so if we get going now we can probably have it done in an hour."

"I hope so because I'm dying for some pie. Nothing better than warm apple pie in the morning."

"Rye, we just got up!" Peeta told him. "You'll get sick if you eat it this early."

"Says who?" challenged Rye.

"Well, you," said Peeta, chuckling under his breath. "You always get sick when you eat pie in the morning. And so does Luchi...and me. But if you want to have some, go right ahead."

"Hmm," said Rye, who was now having second thoughts about early morning pie and the possibility of him throwing it back up on the kitchen floor. "Change of plan. We get the tree done, spend the afternoon thinking about pie and then later on...we have some pie."

Peeta shook his head, holding back a smile and said in amusement, "Awesome plan, bro. Sounds good to me. That should work then. We should have the tree done pretty quick and then later on, it's pie time."

"Okay," said Rye. "Let's get the lights on first."

Peeta dug through each of the boxes till he'd found the ones with the lights, and then carefully started pulling them out and setting them on the couch. With Rye's help, the two got them unravelled and then quickly checked to make sure the lights still worked before putting them on the tree. There wasn't a single light burnt out, so they each took an end of the string of lights and started making their way around the bottom of the tree. They eventually reached the middle of the tree and then at last, they'd gotten to the top. Rye asked if he could put the tree topper on which was an impressive star colored purely in gold, and when Peeta handed it up to him, Rye had to get up on the arm of the couch and stand right on his tip toes just to try and reach the very top. The tree was roughly eight feet tall, and he fell just a few inches short and ended up nearly falling in the process, so Peeta offered to try and because he was about four inches taller than his brother and had longer arms, he was able to reach with no problem. He then climbed back down and stood next to Rye as the two observed the hundreds of tiny lights and golden star that were now on the tree.

"Nice job, bro," said Rye, giving him a pat on the back. "Wanna light her up?"

Peeta walked over, took the plug and the second he'd put it in the socket, the tree sparkled to life. There were both white lights and colored lights that included every color – reds, oranges yellows, blues, greens, and purples – there wasn't a color of the rainbow missing. It was breathtaking and Peeta would have stood there for hours just admiring it all if he hadn't heard Rye rummaging through one of the larger boxes. It only took him a few seconds to find what he was looking for and once he'd found it, he carried it over and placed it directly under the tree where it sat out front; soon the presents would be piled up behind it. That wasn't all Rye put under the tree though. He made his way back to the boxes, then back to the tree and went on doing this till he'd gotten all the things he'd wanted beneath the tree.

When he'd finished, a large Christmas village was now underneath sitting on fake, glittering snow and circling its way around the village was the train set they'd kept for ten long years. Though the train set was fairly old, it was still in great condition and the whistle still worked perfectly.

"So what do you think?" asked Rye, putting his hands on his hips. "Looks pretty good, doesn't it?"

"It looks _awesome_ ," said Peeta. "I think the house is gonna look better than it's looked in years."

"Probably," Rye agreed, "If we get all the decorations out, it definitely will. Can't wait till we're all done though because I'm _dying_ to have some cookies and pie."

Peeta laughed and said, "You'd eat cookies and pie this early in the morning?"

"Of course," was Rye's quick answer. "Never too early for treats, Peeta. Those things can be enjoyed at breakfast, lunch _and_ supper."

"Well," said Peeta, crouching down and digging his hands through one of the smallest boxes. "Let's finish up here first and then we'll go downstairs and get something to eat." He held up the long, thin strands of golden tinsel and asked, "Can you help me put the tinsel on?"

"Sure."

Once the tinsel was up and covering the tree from top to bottom, the two moved on to the ornaments, which took the most amount of time since they had about fifty in total to put up. A couple were so tiny and delicate that they could fit right in their hands and a few were much larger in size and yet were light as a feather. Some of the bulbs were fruit-shaped and had the forms of apples, pears, grapes and peaches with colors so vivid anyone might have guessed they were real as opposed to just being decorations. Others glittered like gems with stripes and polka-dots and yet some were plain with no decorations, but still looked just as lovely hanging on the branches of the tree. When every bulb and decoration had been hung, there were: angels, candy canes, miniature wreaths, gift boxes, snowflakes and tons of icicles. In a word, the tree was stunning and both Peeta and Rye felt they'd done a pretty decent job.

They also made sure to decorate the mantel over the fireplace with garland, a large wreath with a red bow and a collection of Christmas bears that each wore a Santa hat and held a wrapped present in its paws. The mantel was always a place in the house that looked magnificent when it was all done up and this year it looked just as splendid.

Now that all the decorations had been put up and the living room was practically as dazzling as it was going to get, Peeta was suddenly liking the idea of heading downstairs and grabbing something to eat. He wasn't sure if he'd chow down on cookies through, as that wasn't really something he ever did so early in the morning because he'd usually just get sick, but he was definitely in the mood for _something_ with a bit of sweetness. He was about to turn and make his way down, when he heard Rye calling and telling him to 'wait."

"I want to give you your present early," he explained, and reached into one of the empty boxes.

Peeta watched him curiously, but said quickly, "You don't have to give it to me now, Rye. I can wait till tomorrow and—"

"I know," said Rye and walked up to Peeta while keeping his hands behind his back. "But I _want_ to give it to you now."

"Yeah, but you don't have to—"

"Aw, come on, Peeta," Rye insisted. "You can open up at least _one_ present, right? Just one little gift?"

Peeta thought for a moment, then smiled and said, "Alright. Only onethough."

He then took the small, almost weightless box from Rye and looked it over inquisitively while setting it in the palm on his hand. The box was red with yellow stripes and tied with a skinny green ribbon. He put his fingers on the ribbon and slowly pulled and setting it down on the table, he then returned his attention to the box. He lifted the top off and when he saw what was inside, he knew right away that it was a present that Rye had made _himself_ , and wasn't a gift he'd gone and bought at the store. It was a thing he'd clearly put together all on his own.

It was a round bulb that was painted sunset orange and written in black letters around it were the words, ' _World's Greatest Brother_.' It wasn't very heavy, which explained why the box had felt so light in his hand. He figured Rye must have done this a week or so ago to ensure he got it painted and ready to give to him for Christmas. And though his brother's painting abilities had never been quite as remarkable or skilled as Peeta's, he was extremely grateful. The simple fact that his brother had taken the time to make him something as lovely as this made him realize just how much Rye was beginning to transform back into his old self since returning home from the hospital. Every day, Peeta would awake to find his brother sounding and acting more like his old, friendly self and he couldn't have been happier.

"Thanks, Rye," said Peeta sincerely. "That was nice of you to do that."

"That's what family's for, little bro," said Rye, putting an arm around Peeta and giving him a friendly clap him on the shoulder. "Sorry the paintings not exactly perfect. Wish I was an expert like you."

"No worries, man," said Peeta. "Just the fact that you made me this is special enough. I'm gonna see if I can put it somewhere near the top." He walked up to the tree while holding the bulb out in front of him. He scanned the tree for a short minute before finding a lone branch up next to the shining golden star. He got up on the arm of the couch, raised his arm and then soon Rye's bulb was dangling alongside all the other ornaments.

When he and Rye were standing in front of the tree again and staring up at the colourful bulb, Peeta told him, "That looks great, Rye. I'm gonna put that on the tree every year."

"Glad you like it," was Rye's answer. "So now that we've got everything done here, wanna go get something to eat?"

"Not just yet."

Rye raised a brow and asked, "How come?"

"Because we're not done here," was Peeta's answer.

Rye stared at Peeta in confusion, and asked, "What do you mean? The tree's all done, I gave you your present and—"

With a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, Peeta interrupted, "True...but you haven't gotten your present yet."

"You got me a present?" said Rye, and he too was smiling.

"Of course!" said Peeta. "No way I'd forget your present. Just give me a second and I'll get it out." He walked up to the tree, got down on his knees and began rummaging through the mountain of presents. It took him only a moment to remember where he'd placed it. "I put it way back here behind all the other gifts. That way you'd never see it."

"That's smart thinking," said Rye. "Did you just get it today?"

Peeta rose to his feet and with his hands behind his back, said, "No. I've actually had it for a week now."

"What?" asked Rye, who was clearly surprised. "How'd you have it that long?"

"Easy," said Peeta. "I figured it would take about a week or two to get here, so I made sure to order it in time for Christmas. While I was in the hospital recovering, I asked Dad if he could put in the order for me. It got here a week ago and once I had it, I wrapped it up, put in a box and put the box under the tree this morning. If I would have waited any longer to order it, it never would have gotten here in time."

"Wait," said Rye, puzzled and suddenly very curious. "You said ordered...?"

"Yes," said Peeta, grinning with excitement.

"Ordered..." Rye repeated, as if he was lost in thought and working very hard to figure out what it was exactly his brother was hiding behind his back.

"Don't even try, bro," said Peeta, enjoying his brother's reaction. "You'll never guess what I've got here. You can try, but you'll never guess what I've got in this little box here."

Rye shrugged in surrender and admitted, "No, probably not."

"Can't wait to see the look on your face when you see it," said Peeta.

Rye kept his eyes glued on his brother's arms, which were still behind his back and the longer he stared, the more eager he was to see what it was.

"Okay, okay!" said Rye, his face lighting up. "Let's get that present opened so you can see the look on my face then, shall we?"

Peeta waved his hand in the air and said dismissively, "Nah, maybe later."

"Peeta!"

"You can wait till later."

"Please?" said Rye, giving his brother the best puppy eyes he possibly could.

"Nope."

"But I gave you yours!" Rye exclaimed. "Come on, little bro!"

The two locked eyes for a few seconds, and then Peeta burst out laughing. Rye's face remained serious for the shortest moment, and then he too was laughing loudly.

"Just kidding!" said Peeta, and held out the small box in front of him.

Rye sighed in relief and said, "I actually believed you there."

Peeta handed Rye the tiny gift and said, "Really?"

"Really."

"Well, I won't make you wait till Christmas morning," Peeta told him. "You didn't make me wait, so I gotta be fair."

"I can't wait to see what's inside!" said Rye, his eyes the size of marbles.

"You're gonna love it," was all Peeta said.

"Wonder what it is," said Rye. He held the small gift up to his left ear, shook it lightly and then gave it a long, hard look as if still debating about what could be inside.

"Open it!" said Peeta, his eyes fixed on the unopened box.

"Alright, alright!" said Rye, laughing. "Let's get this thing opened."

It didn't take long for Rye to open the small, carefully wrapped box. As he undid the ribbon and ripped off the red and green striped wrapping paper, Peeta watched him with the greatest of excitement. Ever since he'd ordered this and kept it hidden in the closet in his room, he'd been so eager to present it to his brother. It hadn't taken him very long to decide on the perfect gift for him and when he'd finally gotten it wrapped and placed under the tree, he was fully convinced that he'd chosen the perfect Christmas present.

In less than a minute the ribbon was undone, the wrapping paper was in pieces and the box was bare and ready to be opened. Rye didn't hesitate before lifting the square top with one hand and when he saw what was inside, his mouth actually dropped. All the while, Peeta stood there with the biggest grin. Rye's reaction to this little gift was exactly what he'd expected it to be.

"N-no way!" Rye exclaimed, who had to blink twice to be sure he was seeing right.

"Yes way," Peeta confirmed.

"Is this for real?" said Rye, his eyes glued to the bottom of the box.

"It's real," Peeta assured him. He gave his brother a friendly pat on the back and said, "Merry Christmas, Rye."

Rye lifted his head, stared at Peeta for the longest second and then pulled him into a tight hug. He hadn't imagined what would have been sitting at the bottom of this tiny box but it made absolute sense. Now that he'd seen it, it came as no surprise to him why this had been Peeta's present to him. Yes, there would have been plenty of other things he could have given him – like a brand new video game – but this was about the best he could have asked for. He now understood what Peeta had meant by having to 'order' them because this wasn't something he'd made himself, or went and purchased at the store.

"My old baseball cards," said Rye quietly. "And these are all signed too, all six of them! My old cards were never signed. I've been trying to get my hands on these signed cards for months." He stared at them for the longest moment, looked back at the Peeta and pulled him into a tight hug while exclaiming, "You're awesome, little bro!"

"I knew you'd like it," Peeta chuckled.

It hadn't taken him long to figure out what the perfect gift for his brother would be. The day Rye had revealed to Katniss all of Peeta's secrets about his undying love for her, Peeta had gone ahead and given Rye his own personal form of punishment that afternoon when he'd gotten home. While Rye had been downstairs helping himself to a plate of freshly made brownies, Peeta had taken his six most favourite baseball cards...and ripped them to pieces. Rye, of course, had been furious what with now big of a baseball fan he was so to be given those same cards and to have them autographed by the players themselves, it was the ideal gift for a devoted fan and collector.

"Oh, I love it!" said Rye quickly. "You're a pro at Christmas shopping."

"Good thing I won the bid," said Peeta, watching his brother examine every inch of the cards. "Someone else was bidding for them and I ended up winning at the last minute."

"Really?"

"Yeah," said Peeta, recalling how close he'd been to losing the bid. "It was pretty intense, but I wasn't gonna let anyone else get these cards."

Rye gave Peeta another sincere smile and said in appreciation, "Thanks, Peeta."

Peeta gave a nod and said, "No problem, bro."

"Can't wait to add them to my collection!" said Rye, tucking them back in the box.

"How big is your collection anyway?" asked Peeta inquisitively.

"I've got a few hundred cards stored up in my closet."

"Wow," said Peeta, sounding impressed. "Now that's what I call a collection."

"Thanks, man," said Rye. "Hey! I can show you them all if you want sometime. Might take a while to go through them all but you can check them out if you want."

"Sounds good," said Peeta. "Well, now that we're done with the gifts, how about we go grab something to eat?"

"Yeah, all that tree decorating and gift exchanging really tired me out." Rye added this last part with a grin.

"Oh, I'm sure it did," said Peeta, amused by his brother's sarcasm. "Let's go."

Rye only nodded, turned around and the two were about to hurry downstairs to go searching the cupboards when Luchi entered the room shaking his head.

"Don't got a bulb for me, Rye?" he asked, pretending to sound overly upset. "Don't tell me you forgot your big brother?"

"U-uh, no, I was gonna make one for you two," Rye explained. "I just thought I'd give Peeta his present early since he hasn't been home for that long. Your present's already under the tree. See? Over by the big red one?"

"I'm just teasin' ya," said Luchi jokingly, who glanced up at the bulb and remarked, "Nice job, little bro. What's the writing say?"

" _World's Greatest Brother_ ," Rye smiled.

Luchi nodded and said, "Perfect. Anyway, I'm gonna get started on the apple pie. I figured I'd make that first and then get the cookies going later. You guys wanna help?"

"Yes!" said Rye eagerly and was already making his way towards the stairs as if he hadn't a moment to lose.

"I'll take that as a yes," Peeta remarked.

Luchi laughed and followed after him, with Peeta quickly following behind him. When they'd gotten downstairs, they saw that every room was lit up down there as well. There were just as many lights glowing, candles scattered about and hung up on a few of the walls were tinier versions of the giant wreath on their front door outside.

When they got in the kitchen, they noticed that Luchi had all the materials and ingredients already laid out on the counter and ready to be used. Everything was there – the apples which had been peeled and cored, lemon juice, sugar, brown sugar, flour, nutmeg and cinnamon and the butter. Both Peeta and Rye were excited, since apple pie had always been one of their favourite desserts at Christmas but Rye was by far the most excited. He couldn't wait to once more be hit with the familiar smell of apples, cinnamon, nutmeg and brown sugar that wafted through the house like some breeze of sweetness. His mind quickly went back to the time where he'd try and eat as much of the pie as he could simply so Peeta wouldn't get even two pieces. He hated himself for having ever done that, but he convinced himself that there was nothing to feel upset about anymore because anythingobnoxiousand unpleasant he'd ever done had been forgivenby his little brother. He realized it was one of many reasons why Peeta _really_ was the world's greatest brother – the fact that he didn't hold a grudge against someone who'd been as nasty as Rye.

When they were just setting the timer for fifty minutes and getting the pie in the oven, Rye looked at Peeta and asked, "So, Katniss is coming over tomorrow?"

"Yeah, she's spending Christmas morning with her family and then she's gonna spend some time here for the afternoon. She's got some relatives coming over so she wants to be with them for a bit first. I think she said they might be staying for a week, till New Year's."

"Hey," said Rye, who'd thought of an idea. "Wanna go sledding while the pie's cooking? We've got two awesome crazy carpets out in the shed that I've been using since I was a kid. They're wicked."

"Okay," said Peeta, then asked Luchi," Wanna come?"

"Thanks, but I'll stay here," said Luchi. "I'm gonna see if I can get an early start on those cookies."

"Well, if you change your mind, we'll be out back," said Rye.

"Have fun," said Luchi with a grin. "Don't hurt yourself. Those hills can be dangerous, you know."

"Oh, very funny!" said Rye, and then laughed, "Like _you've_ never gotten hurt on one of them."

"Not as much as _you_ , bro," was Luchi's response. "You go down those hills shouting like a banshee."

Rye shrugged and said, "It's fun. Gives me an adrenaline rush."

"You mean a banshee rush?" said Luchi with a half smile.

"Something like that," was Rye's answer.

When he and Peeta had stepped out the kitchen door, they made their way over to the shed in their backyard. After they'd spent a few minutes digging through the mountain of stuff that was piled in the shed – most of it being junk –they finally found the two crazy carpets. One was a bright orange and the other was a deep purple. They had no trouble stepping over everything around them and pulling the carpets out. They were extremely light and easy to carry, and Rye always said that he'd never go back to using an old-fashioned sled after racing with one of these.

They were lucky to have as big of a backyard as they did because there were multiple hills and slopes that could make for some pretty entertaining races. And because there weren't that many trees scattered about, the two didn't have to worry about speeding down the hills while trying to avoid slamming into the trunk of a tree. Rye had done that once at school back in grade six and told Peeta it was the freakiest thing he'd ever experienced.

"I tried to stop the sled," said Rye. "But it was going too fast and then seconds later... _WAM!_ I get slammed into the tree at full speed. Man, that was freaky. Ever since then, I haven't even thought about going sledding at school. I only ever do it here in our own yard."

"They probably fixed you up good, though, didn't they?" said Peeta.

"Yeah," said Rye, then added sincerely, as if it were something he _had_ to tell his brother at that very second, "I'm reallyglad you're home for Christmas, Peeta. I was scared that you might not recover in time, but I'm so glad you did."

" _Thanks_ Rye," said Peeta in appreciation. "Me too. I kept fearing I'd have to spend the holidays in a hospital but when the doctor told me I'd be home in time for Christmas, it was a huge relief. I don't think I could truly think it was Christmas if there weren't any lights around, or a tree, or decorations or the smell of cookies in the oven. You wouldn't get to experience that in a hospital. You'd only ever get that at home."

Rye sat down on the crazy carpet and smiled in agreement, "Home sweet home, little bro."

The two spent a fun hour racing down the hills and just about every time, Rye would come out as the winner. He argued it was because of how small and light he was as opposed to Peeta who had more of a build, and weighed a bit more. Someone as small as Rye could easily and almost effortlessly steer the carpet to go in whatever direction he wanted. Peeta, on the other hand, tried doing this but found it was trickier than Rye made it seem, who flew down the hills with such confidence that anyone would have assumed it was as easy as _he_ made it look, which it _wasn't._

Luchi even came out ten minutes before they'd gone back inside and announced, " _Snowball fight!_ _"_ He then added quickly before launching the first attack that whoever got in the most shots would get the biggest cookie, which was about three times larger than the rest.

All Peeta and Rye gave each other was a quick glance, and then the two were running off to build their snowballs. Luchi was by far the speediest and threw the balls so fast his brothers hardly had time to question when the next one would come sailing by before it got them squarely in the chest. Peeta might not have been as fast as Luchi, but what he lacked for in speed he made up for in _aim_ _._ Poor Rye didn't have the greatest of speed _or_ aim, but he was fairly good at ducking or diving out of the way from getting hit. The question though was what would come out as the winner – Luchi's remarkable speed, Peeta's impressive aim or Rye's ability to duck almost half the shots that were thrown at him?

The person that walked out victorious was _Peeta_.

Despite the fact that Luchi had fired shot after shot and Rye had dodged as many attacks as he had, it wasn't enough to compare with the preciseness that Peeta had so carefully focused on. It had been a close call as to who would claim the crown, but in the end, Peeta was the one that would receive the 'giant' cookie that Luchi had told him about. Since it was still in the oven with the final batch, he told him he'd have to wait just a little bit longer before getting it.

When the three had returned inside, Rye had barely stepped into the kitchen before the heavenly smell of cinnamon and nutmeg washed all over him.

" _Man_ , that smells good!" he exclaimed, and felt his stomach rumbling. "Nice job, Luchi."

"Thanks, bro," said Luchi, and said with just a hint of boastfulness, "Nobody makes a pie quite like me, if I do say so myself."

"Wish I could have some _now_ ," said Rye, and took a deep whiff of the deliciously tempting smell. He took a seat at the kitchen table, put his elbows on the table and then put his hands under his chin. The intense stare he gave the pie was enough to get both Peeta and Luchi laughing.

"Gotta let it cool, Rye," said Luchi, sliding the pie to the opposite end of the table, but that didn't stop Rye from continuing to stare hungrily at the pie. "If you're that hungry then go grab one of the cookies. They're pretty much all done anyway."

"I don't _want_ cookies, Luchi" said Rye, and smiled at the pie. "I want _this_."

"Oh, might as well _give_ him a piece," laughed Peeta, handing Rye a knife, fork and plate. "He'll just keep nagging for some if you don't."

"Rye, you're soimpatient," Luchi told him, shaking his head. "Just can't wait like the rest of us, can ya?"

"It's Christmas Eve, Luchi!" said Rye excitedly, and started to cut himself a piece. "Gotta have pie on Christmas Eve...always."

"Yeah, but _you_ don't wait for it to _cool_ ," was Luchi's argument. "Actually, now that I think of it, you don't wait for _anything_ to cool. _Ever_."

Rye now had a decently-sized portion of pie on his plate, which he took an eager bite of, gave a satisfied " _mmmm_ " and then said to Luchi, " _Love_ apple pie."

"I'll take that as a compliment," said Luchi with a chuckle, then said to Peeta, "Guess you might as well have some too, since he's already got one. That pie won't last long with Rye around."

"I'll wait," said Peeta, and then looked over at the plate of freshly-made cookies. "I'm kind of in the mood for a sugar cookie."

About ten minutes later, Peeta's massive cookie came out of the oven and when he saw how beautifully it had been decorated, he felt he couldn't have done a better job himself. Luchi had done a great job putting on just the right amount of red and blue icing. He'd also done just as nice of a job with the sprinkles, which were shaped as candy canes, snowmen, Christmas trees and snowflakes. And when he took a bite, the treat proved just as delicious and tasty as it looked and he had the whole thing devoured in less than a minute.

The day passed by quickly and before anyone knew, it was evening and Peeta decided he'd head to bed early that night. After spending an afternoon of sledding, having a snowball fight and enjoying sweets with his brothers, he was tired and ready for sleep. He also wanted to get some rest because he could hardly wait to see Katniss tomorrow. It would be their first Christmas together and he was dying to give her the present he'd kept tucked away in his closet for almost a month now. It was as he was just starting to nod off that it occurred to him that it was going to be an amazing Christmas and even better...an exciting start to an _incredible_ new year. Not once in the past two months, ever since he'd arrived at the hospital, had his dreams been invaded by the vicious hawk.

There'd been so many times where he'd debated about whether or not he should have revealed to Katniss what he'd been seeing in his dreams, but since his recovery in the hospital and his returning home, his dreams had been hawk-free so he decided against it. And because Gale was no longer acting angrily towards Peeta, there wasn't really any explanation as to why he'd been having nightmares except for the fact that he was as Marvel put it – a worry wart. He'd worried far more than necessary that Gale wanted nothing more than to steal Katniss for himself but that clearly wasn't the case. There was no point in worrying about something that had been a part of the _past_ _._ Like with his brother, it was a thing that had had happened, but was _no longer_ happening, and that was the important thing. It was clear that at one time Gale's feelings for Katniss _had_ been obviously strong but ever since he'd been dating Cashmere, he was no longer having feelings for his best friend. He was now okay with the two just being friends and that was a huge relief and comfort for Peeta because no longer would he have to worry about Gale's eyes watching his every move.

Peeta guessed that the anger and rage had been too tiring and exhausting, so he must have reached a point where he knew trying to convince Katniss to get together with him wasn't going to work. Katniss had made it very clear to him where her feelings for him stood, so he must have ultimately accepted this and by doing so, could then get together with another girl while still maintaining his friendship with Katniss.

So with that thought in mind, Peeta closed his eyes and was on his way once more to the world of dreams where he and Katniss were spending Christmas Day together. It was experiencing this dream that made him believe that the old Gale Hawthorne – the angry, bitter and jealous one – was _truly_ out of their lives for good and in its place was a much nicer and friendlier one.

If only he knew how _utterly_ and _completely_ wrong he was.


	44. Chapter 44

**CHAPTER 44**

 **DECEMBER**

The next morning, Peeta was still sound asleep when somebody had come barging into his room and jumped up onto his bed. He was still lost in the dream of him and Katniss and the two were sitting up under the cherry blossom tree on their special hilltop and all around them there was a light snowfall. He didn't even feel Rye's hands grabbing his shoulders and giving him an excited shake. It wasn't until Rye started hollering that Peeta finally woke up.

" _Come on_ , little bro!" said Rye, his eyes wide and a smile on his face. "It's Christmas!"

"Five more minutes," Peeta mumbled, and turned over onto his side with a yawn. Rye was too quick for him and rolled him right back to how he'd been just seconds ago. No way was he letting his brother sleep in on the best day of the year.

"I don't think so!" said Rye, and gave Peeta the slightest of a pinch. That did the trick, and Peeta was up and awake so fast that Rye couldn't help burst out laughing.

" _Ow_!" was all he said.

"Sorry, Peeta," said Rye with a shrug. "But can't have you snoozing on Christmas Day."

Peeta stared at Rye for a moment, then grinned and asked, "Is Luchi awake?"

"Nope," said Rye, and he too was grinning. "I wanted to come wake you first."

"Are we _really_ gonna wake him?" said Peeta and Rye could tell by the look on his face that this was just the thing he wanted to do.

Rye gave a little smirk and said, " _Of course_!"

"Let's go," said Peeta, and the two rushed out of the room and tip toed their way over to Luchi's.

Their older brother's reaction was much funnier than Peeta's, because Luchi was the kind of guy who loved his sleep and anyone who interfered with how much sleep he got would get a real surprise when he started snapping and shouting, which is exactly what he ended up doing.

"What'd ya do that for?" he asked crankily, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"It's Christmas Day, bro!" said Rye, patting him on the shoulder. "Plenty of time for sleeping later."

"Don't you wanna sing some Christmas carols?" said Peeta. "Get into the Christmas spirit? We wish you a Merry—"

"Not right now," said Luchi, still rubbing his eyes. "I just woke up! And just so you both know, I was actually in the middle of a pretty amazing dream."

"Oh?" said Peeta and asked him, "And what made this particular dream so amazing?"

Luchi put his hands up in a dramatic fashion and said, "There was cake...lots of it."

"Cake?" said Rye. He blinked and asked, "You were dreaming about—"

"Ah-ah, let me finish," said Luchi. "So there was chocolate. Not vanilla, not strawberry, just chocolate. I was swimming in oceans of chocolate and I was just about to make a dive into the biggest pool of chocolate yet, when I found myself diving into a freshly made batter of...brownies." Just as the word 'brownies' was escaping his lips, a huge grin was forming on his face.

"What!" Rye exclaimed, and his eyes grew twice their size. Peeta fell into a fit of sudden laughter, knowing how crazy his brother was about brownies. If there was a single person in the world that could devour an entire plate of brownies in less than ten minutes and not feel sick to his stomach, it was Rye.

"Oh, yeah," Luchi went on, licking his lips and even closed his eyes. "Freshly made, gooey, warm, soft chocolate brownies. Fresh out of the oven. Man, they were good. I ate half the pan, too, and I was just about to finish off the rest of them when I was rudely yanked out of there and now who's going to take care of the rest?"

"That's not fair!" said Rye, and at once his stomach began growling. The moment he'd heard Luchi say the word 'brownies', his mouth had dropped and even now he still hadn't been able to close it. He wasn't even aware of the fact that Peeta was watching him in amusement and was laughing so hard he had to sit himself down on Luchi's bed for fear of falling to the floor. _He's trying to get to you man, don't let him_... _brownies...he knows you're obsessed with them...dream...chocolate...don't let him get to you...fresh out of the oven_... _pretend you never heard it...brownies, brownies, brownies! Ahhhhhh!_ Rye frowned and asked, "How come I can't have dreams like that?" By the tone of his voice, he sounded just like a little boy that hadn't gotten the bike he'd wanted for his birthday.

"Don't worry," Luchi assured him. "I told the guy who made the brownies that I had a brother who loved them more than anyone else, and he said he'd give you the rest of them tonight."

"But they won't be fresh out of the oven," said Rye in disappointment.

"Just kidding," said Luchi. "He said he'd whip up some more."

Rye gave a huge smile, licked his lips and said contently while patting his brother on the shoulder, "Now that's what I like to hear."

"You can thank him when you get there," Luchi told him. "He's the one that said he'd make you whatever you want."

A look of confusion crossed Rye's face. "Who is this guy, anyway?"

Luchi laughed under his breath and said, "Dad."

"What?" said Rye, and he and Peeta both laughed at the realization.

"Should have known," said Peeta, shaking his head with a grin.

"Really," said Rye. "But what the heck's Dad doing making oceans of chocolate?"

"Guess he can do whatever he wants," Peeta suggested. "Anything's possible in dreams."

"True," Rye agreed, and said with shining eyes, "And that means I can make a world of brownies and eat chocolate all day and then eat more chocolate and when that chocolate's gone I'll just make some more and...and I've got some serious dreaming to catch up on."

"I can see that," Peeta observed. "Let me know how that all works out for you."

"I will."

"Actually, invite me too," said Peeta, and was starting to like the idea of a world made entirely of chocolate. "I'd like to try some of these delicacies myself."

"How about this? I'll take half and you'll take half? Deal?"

"Deal."

"Glad I could help!" said Luchi, and then instantly rolled over onto his side. "Sounds like you two are really gonna accomplish something. Not that I don't wanna hear more of this because I'm sure it'll be great and you'll become famous and all but I got z's to catch." After snuggling into the blankets, he called out, "See ya!"

"You can't just go back to sleep," chuckled Peeta.

Luchi gave a loud yawn and shot back lazily, "Mmm...actually I can. Just gotta close my eyes and bam...dreamland."

"Aw, come on, bro!" said Rye with excitement. "It's Christmas! Like I said, plenty of time for sleeping later! Think of how busy the day's gonna be. You can't spend it in bed!"

"Turkey dinner to make," said Peeta.

"Presents to open," Rye added.

"Carols to sing," Peeta threw in.

"And when dinner's done," said Luchi and shouted out as if he could hardly wait, "Dessert!" He then said while yanking the blankets off Luchi, "And guess what, man? There's only one guy in this house who makes a world famous apple pie and that's you! Not Dad, Mom, Peeta and definitely not me. I'm great with brownies, Peeta's great with cheese buns and pretty much everything else but when it comes to that sweet-smelling pie...that's you bro."

Luchi glared at him as if he was _really_ ticked at having his beloved sleep cut short, but then he gave a little smile and crawled out of bed while giving his arms a good stretch. He might have felt slightly irritated at having been woken from his deep, relaxing peaceful, but it was impossible to feel cranky on this day of the year.

"I guess," he said yawning. "Alright. Let's go check out what's under the tree then."

"Race you down!" said Rye, bolting out of his brother's room. Peeta's eyes widened and then he too was soon rushing out of Luchi's room.

"No fair!" called Luchi, hurrying after them. "You got a head's start and I just got out of bed!"

"No, you're just slow!" said Rye with a chuckle.

"Cheater!" called Luchi, catching up to him and Peeta.

"Slowpoke!" Rye shot back.

"Cheater!"

"Snail!"

Luchi gave Rye a little push and argued, "I'm no snail! Do you see a shell on this back?"

Rye gave him a crooked smile and answered, "Yeah...but you can't see it."

"Okay, okay," said Peeta, when they reached the bottom of the stairs. "So Rye wins." He then turned to his older brother and said while still catching his breath after having bee-lined down the stairs two at a time. "But hey! You're way faster than Luchi and I. You're like athlete fast!"

Rye shrugged casually and said, "I might not be strong, but I run pretty fast."

"Dude, you're like a roadrunner," said Luchi.

Rye punched the air in victory and said jokingly, "And the prize for fastest guy in the world goes to Rye Mellark!" He then went on to make loud, cheering sounds as if a crowd of people were chanting his name and applauding him like he was the world's fastest runner. "Rye! Rye! Rye! Rye!"

Luchi gave him a light punch in the arm and said, "You gonna stand there all day and not go see what's under the tree Mr. I'm-Faster-Than-Everyone-Else? Or would you rather wait around to get a medal from one of your adoring fans? Hate to break it to ya pal, but they're uh...they're kind of ghost-like, if ya know what I mean." He gave an amused grin and when he looked to Peeta, he saw his youngest brother was grinning as well.

"No, no!" said Rye quickly, and wasted no time in hurrying into the living room. "Let's go!" Right behind him were his brothers, who were just as thrilled and delighted that it was finally Christmas.

After spending close to an hour exchanging, receiving and opening gifts, there wasn't a present left unopened and a good portion of the living room was now filled with wrapping paper. As they were unwrapping, their mother kept reminding them not to throw out the bows as she could always use them for next year. It got to the point where Rye would start purposefully throwing them in the garbage bag because he was so caught up in the realization that it was finally Christmas and it was rather annoying to keep hearing his mother go on about silly bows.

"But you have _enough_ bows, Mom!" he told her, and dug out one of the bows he'd just finished tossing in the bag. He handed it to her and she added it to the collection that she'd been building for years. "Look how many you got there. Only a zillion!"

"Can't have too many bows, Rye," she said, and reached for another. "With how many relatives and friends presents are given out to, I like to make sure they're wrapped properly. And starting next year, I'd like to start giving out gifts to customers. We get so many familiar faces that it'd be nice to send them all a little something and I can only do that if I've got enough bows."

"They're just gonna get rid of them once the gift's opened though," he muttered, but then started laughing when he saw one of the candy canes falling on Peeta's head. It wasn't one of the heavier ornaments – really it was light as a feather – so it wouldn't leave an aching bruise or hurt him in any way. What made it funny was that Peeta had been spending so much time trying to unravel the ribbons on the present he was holding, that when the candy cane fell onto his head, he gave a surprised gasp and immediately glanced up.

"Careful, little bro," warned Rye, and hung the candy cane back up on its branch. "Those ornaments can be real dangerous. Don't wanna hurt yourself."

"Thanks, Rye, well aware of that now," he said with an amused smile, and proceeded to open the box.

The bottom of the tree was certainly left surrounded with a mountain of presents once every box had been opened. There were chocolates; two new video games for Rye; a new guitar; a new easel for Peeta; more than enough clothes; movies; music devices, and three brand new laptops for Peeta, Rye and Luchi.

Once the presents had been opened and the wrapping paper had been cleaned up and put in the garbage, the five enjoyed a tasty meal of rich breakfast casserole, traditionally baked bread and freshly-made strawberry milkshakes. It was the perfect way to start off what was going to be a wonderful day and as he was sitting there with his parents and two brothers, Peeta felt truly _grateful_ to be home and not still in the hospital knocking on death's door. It was the first time in sixteen years that he'd sat with his family at dinner where everyone was smiling and laughing as opposed to sitting there awkwardly without saying much. It was the single best feeling in the world right then, and it was about to get even better.

Around one o'clock, as he and Rye were sitting on the couch watching Christmas shows, he heard the sound of the doorbell ringing and knew at once who'd rung it. He was up and off that couch so fast that Rye actually laughed at how excited he was.

When he got to the door, he turned the knob, opened it and was met with a smiling Katniss.

"Hi, Peeta!" she exclaimed, and he pulled her into a warm hug. " _Merry Christmas_!"

"Merry Christmas to you _too_ , sweetheart," he chuckled, and held her close for a moment longer before pulling away. "So you got to spend the morning with your family?"

"Yeah," said Katniss. "My aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents were all able to come. It was great seeing them all, since I only ever see most of my cousins once or twice a year."

"That's awesome," said Peeta, stepping aside while opening the door wider and telling her excitedly, "Come on in! Rye and I were just watching some shows."

When she stepped through the door and into the entryway, her eyes lit up at seeing how beautifully decorated the inside of their house was. There were lights of every color which glowed brilliantly, angels sitting on the mantels and numerous candles that gave off a soft, warm glow.

"Wow, you guys did _all_ this?" she asked in awe.

Peeta nodded and said, "Rye and I did the tree and living room. Luchi took care of getting the desserts ready and my parents did the rest of the house and prepared the turkey dinner."

"It's _really_ nice," she commented. "I _love_ the candles. They smell like... _cinnamon_."

"Come see the living room," he smiled, and took her hand to lead her down the hall.

When she got her first look at the carefully decorated room, her mouth actually hung open a little as if the sight were so breathtaking that it was all she could do. The mantel over the fireplace had been decked out with garland, a large wreath with a red bow and about five Christmas bears with Santa hats and wrapped presents in their paws.

"You guys did a _great_ job," she said, amazed. "Everything looks so...perfect."

"Thanks," said Peeta. "It was a lot of work, but it's always worth getting to see the house look so nice, especially since Christmas only comes once a year."

"Hi, Katniss," said Rye and gave her a friendly smile. "Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, Rye," Katniss replied. "Merry Christmas!"

After Peeta had returned home from the hospital, Katniss had seen him and Rye hanging out almost every day on free. It didn't surprise her even a bit because despite the fact that she'd known Rye as the unlikeable slug that he'd been for seventeen years, almost losing his brother had turned him inside out. She figured he must have been so terrified at never getting to tell Peeta how sorry he was, that he wouldn't spend a single day yelling or giving him a hard time. After having been so close to losing him, he'd never again take his little brother for granted. And that was when Katniss started talking to Rye whenever she'd see him with Peeta. Whenever she'd run into him in the halls or in the cafeteria eating lunch, he'd always give her a little smile, and she'd make sure to return it with a smile of her own. There was no questioning that he was now a much nicer and friendlier guy to be around.

She and Peeta took a seat next to him, and that's when Peeta remembered something.

"Almost forget," he said, immediately getting up and heading for the kitchen. "There's something I want you to try."

While she and Rye sat watching TV, Peeta quickly put together the treat he'd wanted her to try as soon as it started snowing. It was a delicacy that he always enjoyed on a cold winter's day and today was plenty cold enough.

When he returned, he handed her a large mug that was filled with a brown liquid, tiny marshmallows and though she couldn't see it, a hint of minty flavour. She raised the mug to her nose, sniffed and was instantly hit with the delicious sensation of hot chocolate. Suddenly feeling very thirsty, she took an eager sip and felt a shudder as the warmth of the liquid rushed down her throat and all through her body.

She lowered the mug and told Peeta, "This stuff's _amazing_ _._ I'd definitely rank it as being as good as the cheese buns."

"Really?" he asked surprised, but smiled and said, "That's always been one of my favourites. I make it every Christmas."

"You're gonna have to give me the recipe, okay?" said Katniss, and went to take another sip of the frothy drink. "No way am I only having this around Christmas time."

Peeta chuckled and said, "Okay."

"I bet Prim would love this," said Katniss, and then laughed and said, "You should have seen what she put on Buttercup this morning."

"What?" he asked curiously.

"She put a _Santa hat_ on him," was her answer. "He didn't mind it too much, since he doesn't really mind much of anything when it comes to Prim. Now if I'd tried to put the hat on him, he would have just hissed and clawed my eyes out."

"You'll _have_ to show me a picture of that," Peeta told her. "I've gotta see that."

"I'd _love_ to see him with a beard but I don't think he'd like that too much," said Katniss.

"No, probably not," Peeta agreed.

The three watched Christmas shows for a good three hours, and enjoyed every second of it. There was even one that replayed twice, but most people didn't mind watching things twice when it came to Christmas. The majority got so caught up with the spirit and fun of the holiday that they'd pretty much watch anything Christmas-related, even if it was showing for the third or fourth time on TV.

At one point, Rye got up and left the room without saying where he was going or what he was getting. He came back a few minutes later with his hands behind his back and a casual look on his face. Both Peeta and Katniss looked to him to see if he'd gotten anything, but all he did was walk up to them while still keeping his hands hidden.

He then gave the tiniest of a grin and held something up. He positioned it directly between and above Peeta and Katniss's heads and as soon as they glanced up, they knew what it was – mistletoe. Peeta wasn't surprised to see it, and he was even less surprised to see that it was Rye who'd gotten it.

Peeta shook his head in amusement, looked to his brother and smiled, " _Thanks_ , Rye."

" _No problem_ , little bro."

Peeta then returned his attention to Katniss, who was also smiling in amusement. Then, without a word, he slowly leaned in to her, took her face in both of his hands...and gave her a Christmas kiss. The kiss was soft, gentle and their movements were slow as their lips brushed against the other. As Peeta held Katniss's face in his hands and felt the warmth of her lips on his, he thought, _I hope Rye finds the girl of_ _his_ _dreams soon. He deserves to have someone in his life_.

When they pulled away, Peeta remembered something else he'd planned to give Katniss.

"Be right back," he said, and hurried out of the room.

He returned and in his hands was a small black box with a red ribbon. He held it out to her and she took it, but not before giving Peeta a curious and somewhat surprised look.

"I can't even imagine what's in this," said Katniss, and started to undo the ribbon.

"Open it and see," Peeta smiled.

When she'd gotten the ribbon off, she lifted the lid off, took a look inside and her mouth instantly opened. She hadn't guessed what Peeta might have had in mind for a Christmas gift, but she should have known it would have been nothing but special. It was a chain with a gold disk shaped as a mockingjay and as he slid his finger along a catch, the disk popped open and a locket was revealed. There was nothing inside it, but Katniss didn't have to think twice about whose photo she'd be placing inside, and that would be Peeta's.

"Thank you, Peeta," she said sincerely, and put the chain around her neck. "It's beautiful."

"I hoped you'd like it," he told her. "You can put a picture inside it, too. That way you can always have people you love close to you."

"Then that means I can always have you close to me," said Katniss.

"Thanks, sweetheart," said Peeta, and then pointed to a large bag over by one of the tables. "Who's that for?"

"You," she said simply.

" _Me_?" he asked, and walked over to it with a smile. "You got _me_ a present?"

" _Of course_ , Peeta!" she said laughing. "It's Christmas."

He brought the bag over to the couch, sat down next to her and peeked inside. He couldn't see to the bottom because the bag was filled with colourful tissue paper.

"I think you'll like it," she said with a small grin.

He eagerly reached his hand in, removed the tissue paper and when he saw what was inside, his eyes actually lit up and he smiled again. What she'd bought him were some new paintbrushes and paints and since Peeta went through bottles of paint so quickly, he was always in need of new ones.

"Just what I needed," Peeta declared, and put an arm around her lovingly. "Thank you, Katniss."

"You're welcome," she said, pleased at his reaction.

A few days later, New Year's Eve had arrived and Katniss and Peeta were on their way to their special hill with the cherry blossom tree. So far, they'd gone there at least ten times and each time they went, it felt like it were their first time arriving. They liked the relaxation of sitting under the tree with the gorgeous petals while doing nothing but watching the sun set and casting the sky in a deep shade of orange. Most of the time, Peeta made sure to bring his iPod along so they could go on listening to the song that had become theirs, which was Safe and Sound. What with the cherry blossom tree, the sunset and the mesmerizing song, Peeta really believed that aside from the lake down by the school, it really was the most specialplace for them to call their own.

They got there a little after three and spent a good amount of time just sitting in the snow and talking about school and how their exams had gone. It was amazing to think that at one point, they had just been arriving at their first art class, which was where they had originally met. Time had flown by so fast and now they were preparing for second semester.

"So how did you do in your classes?" asked Katniss.

"Pretty good," answered Peeta. "I got an A+ in art—"

"Figured," she interrupted with a smile, and couldn't resist laughing. Hearing Peeta get such a remarkable grade in art was completely expected. Anything below that would have been downright strange. "I would have thought Mr. Odair got your grade mixed up with somebody else's if it wasn't."

Peeta smiled back and continued, "And thanks to you I got an A in math, which is better than I've ever done. And I got a B in biology."

"That's awesome, Peeta," she told him, genuinely happy that he'd done so well.

"You did it then," Peeta told her.

"Did what?" she asked.

"You got me an A in math just like you said you would." He gave her a playful grin and said, "I knew you would."

"Guess I did."

"How about you?" said Peeta.

"Same with me, pretty good," said Katniss. "With you helping me, I got a A- in art."

"That's great for first semester," he complimented. "Just think how much better you'll get this semester. You'll get that A- up to an A for sure and who knows...you might just go all the way and get yourself an A+!"

"Let's hope," said Katniss, then went on, "And I got a B in history and an A in math."

"Looks like we both did pretty good then," he smiled and felt proud of both himself and Katniss. He then paused for a moment, before saying in amazement, "Hard to believe we're halfway there. Just a few more months and grade ten will be done. Then two more years and we leave Madderson High."

"I know," said Katniss. It wasn't till then that she realized how truly fast time went by. How could it feel like just yesterday when she'd first walked into room C4 and noticed the blond-haired, blue-eyed boy sitting at the back of the room with that empty seat next to him? What felt like yesterday was months ago and she didn't doubt for a second that come the last day of school, she'd still remember clear as day what her first high school art class had been like. "Seems like just yesterday I was saying how much I hated art and how bad I was at it but now, well...I've come a long way."

"You have," agreed Peeta. "You're an Artist now."

She smiled at the compliment and then asked him, "What classes do you have for the winter besides art?" Art was one of the few subjects of Madderson High that ran all year. It hadn't always been that way but ever since Mr. Odair had come to the school, it had become such a popular class that when he proposed the idea of it being an all-year class, pretty much every student was strongly in favour of the idea.

"English and Gym," said Peeta. "Should be a good semester now that ugh—" and here he shuddered as if the word left a bad taste in his mouth, and said with relief, " _Math_ is done. I can't imagine doing math for more than half a semester! I'd probably start dozing off in class. I know Marvel did that more than once. Actually know that I think of it, he was asleep more than he was awake." He gave a small chuckle and remarked, "No wonder Ms. Coin kept yelling at him!"

Katniss shook her head and said, amused, "Peeta, will you _ever_ stop saying _ugh_ when it comes to math?"

"Probably not," he admitted. "I'm just not a big fan of it. But I'm sure you know that by now after having listened to me say 'ugh' about a thousand times. No...I definitely don't love it."

"Oh, I know that," said Katniss, remembering all the times Peeta had frowned when she told him they had a math test coming up, or a huge assignment due. It was one of the rare times she ever caught Peeta Mellark _actually_ frowning.

"What are your classes?" he asked curiously.

She broke out in a big smile – eager to watch his immediate reaction – and answered, "English and Gym."

" _No way_!" said Peeta excitedly. _Is this for real? I've got art, gym and English and Katniss...has art, gym and English?_ "Seriously?"

"Yup," was her quick answer. She knew how thrilled he'd be at hearing the two would be sharing all their classes together, and she was just as thrilled herself.

"That means we'll be in the _same_ classes!" he exclaimed. _Now I know for sure it'll be an awesome semester!_

He'd greatly enjoyed having Katniss in his art class, but the idea of them sharing _all_ the same classes got him that much more excited. He only hoped that he'd be able to focus enough on his _schoolwork_ rather than let the idea of Katniss being in all of his classes consume his mind. He knew he had nothing to worry about though because if _he_ didn't give himself a little kick to get his head back in the books, then Katniss most _certainly_ would; he had no doubt about that. There was _no_ _way_ she'd let Peeta's grades slip because he was spending _all_ his time thinking about how he'd spend his time with her. He was _lucky_ to have such a girlfriend because some would be so busy and obsessed with trying to get their boyfriends to spend _all_ his time with them as opposed to focusing on their work.

"Do you know what block you have for free?" said Peeta.

"I think it's B," she told him.

Once more Peeta broke out in a huge smile and said, "Same with me. This is awesome! It looks like we're going to have every class and even free together. And then we've got lunch to hang out as well. How great is that? We can spend the _whole_ day together, Katniss!"

"The _whole_ day?" she asked in shock, as if not liking the idea as much as he'd expected.

He gave her a confused look, wondering why she'd dislike the idea but she only laughed and put her hand on his cheek and said jokingly, " _Just kidding_ _._ I can't wait. We'll be able to do all our homework together and then we'll both come out with straight A's."

"Wow, that'd be nice," said Peeta. "Alright, that'll be our goal then for this semester: to come out with all A's. Gym shouldn't be a problem since half the points you get are for showing up dressed in the right gear. English won't be hard since all of its reading and writing. And art, well...that'll be a piece of cake."

"Art and gym should be," said Katniss. "But I don't know about English."

"How come?" asked Peeta.

She shrugged and said, "I've never been that great in English. I do alright, but the most I ever come out with are B's."

"Well, I can change that for you, sweetheart," said Peeta with confidence. "I changed your perspective on art, didn't I?"

"Well, yeah," she admitted, and then added, "But that was different. Art and English are two different things."

"But I helped you like art, right?" said Peeta.

She didn't answer at first, but then nodded and admitted, "Yeah."

"Then believe me when I tell you that you're going to love English," said Peeta, the confidence still present in his voice. "I'm gonna show you how you can move somebody with words and write something that people can relate to. I'll help you write poems and essays and book reports and...and whatever it is we're gonna be doing."

"If you say so," she said, humouring him. But she knew all too well that Peeta would stay true to his word and if that were the case, then by the end of the school year, she'd _love_ English just like he assured her she would.

"Count on it," he smiled. _Don't worry, Katniss._ _I'll do whatever it takes to help you see English in a brighter light, just like I did with art._

While they waited for the upcoming fireworks, they spent the rest of the afternoon building a snowman. Katniss thought back to the night when Peeta had first brought her there, and how when he'd taken her home he'd told her he'd want to return to the hilltop and build a snowman. She hadn't really been sure whether he was serious or not, but when she saw him forming a small snowball, she had the feeling he wasn't kidding. She was even _more_ sure when he started rolling the ball through the snow and that's when she knew that he indeed wanted to build a snowman with her.

"I'll build the body," said Peeta, still rolling the ball across the snow. "You can get started on the head if you want."

When she'd gotten the head built, Peeta was just finishing up his part of the snowman.

"You're still not done?" she chuckled, watching him.

"Hey, this thing's heavy!" he argued, but was laughing as well. "I think it's big enough now, though. What do you think?"

"I'd say it's definitely big enough," she said. She picked up the head that she'd formed and carried it over towards Peeta. While she'd been getting the head ready, he'd gone ahead and built the middle portion of the snowman as well, so now all that was needed for their snow friend was the head.

"Let's give this guy a head," said Peeta.

Katniss lifted her snowball up off the ground and gently placed it on the snowman's body. She took a step back and the two of them admired the now finished body, before Peeta started digging through his coat pocket.

"Now we just gotta give him some features," said Peeta, and what he took out of his pocket were two pieces of coal. Once he'd gotten the eyes firmly in place, he dug into his other pocket and pulled out a large orange carrot, and a couple of small black rocks. A few minutes later, he backed away and Katniss saw the smiling face of their almost complete snowman.

"That looks good," she commented, and then asked, "Should we give him arms?"

"There should be some sticks around," he said, and started off for the woods behind them. "I'll see if there's some in here."

It took him all but a few minutes to find two decently-sized branches. He brought them up to the snowman and pushed them into either side of its body, and then stood next to Katniss as the two looked their creation over.

"Not bad," said Katniss. "His face looks great."

"Kind of looks like _Luchi_ ," said Peeta, and chuckled.

"Oh, I bet he'd _love_ to hear you say _that_ ," said Katniss sarcastically, but she too was laughing. "That you said he looked like a snowman."

"But I didn't say he looked like a snowman," Peeta corrected. "I said the snowman looked like Luchi."

"Same thing though, Peeta!" she said, and gave him a playful smirk.

" _Okay_ , _okay_ ," he admitted while putting his hands up in surrender. "Don't tell him I said that then. He might not like the fact that I thought he looked like a snowman."

"Alright," said Katniss. "I won't tell him."

"But you have to admit," Peeta went on, still looking the snowman over carefully. "It _does_ kind of look like him..."

"It's a snowman Peeta," said Katniss, and couldn't remove the smile from her face. Hearing Peeta compare his older brother to a snowman was one of the funniest comparisons she'd heard in a while. "I don't really see how Luchi resembles a man made of snow."

Peeta shrugged and offered, "Well...something about his face."

"His face, huh?"

"Yeah."

"What about his face looks like Luchi then?" she challenged, and folded her arms while waiting for his response.

Peeta put a finger up and said quickly, "Just give me a minute."

Katniss burst out laughing and said, "You can't think of anything, can you?"

"Yes, I can!" he shot back, studying the snowman's face particularly hard, searching for any detail that might suggest it looked like Luchi. "Just gotta let me think. I'll come up with something, don't worry."

Within a few seconds, he snapped his fingers and declared, "Got it!"

"So what makes the snowman look like Luchi?"

"Well, took a bit of thinking," said Peeta, observing the snowman even more carefully. "But then I realized it wasn't the face at all that looked like Luchi."

"So what does look like him?"

"It's tall," said Peeta. "Definitely as tall as Luchi."

When he caught Katniss watching him curiously, he added quickly, "I'm serious! Luchi is almost six feet tall and that snowman's gotta be at least that tall."

"Well, that makes sense," said Katniss. "But you said the face looked like Luchi? Still think it does?"

Peeta gave a little shrug and said truthfully, "Of course. If you look really hard at the eyes and sort of imagine that they're Luchi's, and then picture his smile looking like...no. No, not really."

"I thought you said it did."

"I changed my mind," was Peeta's response. "But the height is definitely Luchi. This six-foot-tall snowman is Luchi in terms of his height. No arguing with that."

Katniss shook her head and holding back a laugh said, "Then that's what we'll call him: Luchi."

"Luchi it is," said Peeta.

A few hours later, the two were sitting comfortably under the cherry blossom and eagerly waiting for the fireworks display to begin. It was almost midnight, which meant in just a few short minutes the two would be entering a new year, and it was one they both hoped would be an _unforgettable_ one. After having almost lost Peeta to a bullet to the chest, Katniss was only hoping that whatever was awaiting them in the new year, it would be all but _good_ an _wonderful_ things.

"Hey, try and catch snowflakes on your tongue!" said Peeta, sticking his tongue out. Twenty minutes ago a light snowfall had started and one of the things Peeta liked doing best while out in the snow was trying to catch snowflakes on his tongue. It reminded him of his childhood and it was something he and Delly had always had fun doing, and he still enjoyed doing so to that day.

Katniss stuck her tongue out, let a single snowflake fall onto her tongue and then closed her mouth.

"It's much better when there's a lot of snow," Peeta told her. "Then your whole tongue gets covered in them. It's like drinking water."

"Yeah, all I got was one, and it wasn't even that big."

"Just wait till we get a snowstorm," said Peeta, grinning. "Then we'll try this again."

Katniss laughed and said, "You really want to stay out in a storm catching snowflakes? Won't you get cold?"

Peeta thought for a moment, and then said, "Hmm...you're probably right on that one. Okay, scratch that idea. No catching snowflakes during a snowstorm. Let's just stick with drinking hot chocolate in front of fire during a storm."

She chuckled again and said, "Alright."

"Although I betcha anything Rye would," said Peeta. "Especially if I challenged him. Now that I think about it...he'd probably win too."

"Listen," said Katniss suddenly, her voice low.

"What?" asked Peeta, just as quietly.

"Hear it?" she said, listening closely.

Peeta remained silent for a second, and then his face lit up in a smile as he exclaimed with excitement, "They're starting!"

When at last the fireworks came shooting into the sky, their eyes looked upon a show that could only be described as magical. The array of colors that lit up the sky was magnificent and there was every color one could hope to see – deep reds, bright yellows, oranges, violets and brilliant blues. The sound of the exploding rockets was deafening, but the loudness of it all only made the event that much more exciting. The show lasted for twenty minutes, but when Peeta checked his watch only a few minutes after they'd begun, he saw what time it was.

He took Katniss's hand in his, looked her in the eye and smiled, "It's officially midnight. Make a wish, sweetheart." Katniss gave him a smile, and then returned her attention to the colourful show while knowing just what she would wish for.

 _I wish for an_ _amazing_ _year with Peeta Mellark_ ," she thought, silently sending off her wish to the world. " _And that we'll be_ _together forever_.

At the same time, Peeta was thinking, _I wish for Katniss and I to be able to have fun in the New Year and have_ _great_ _things happen to us. More importantly...that we can_ _stay together_.

While Peeta and Katniss were watching the fireworks and making their New Year's Eve wish, two people were making their way through the woods and anyone might have assumed they were going for a walk. What no one knew was that these two gentlemen were on their way to a 'meeting' and they knew the person that was expecting them would _not_ be impressed if they showed up late.

"So who we goin' to see?" asked Gloss.

When Brutus had sent him a text, he hadn't told Gloss who they were going to meet. He'd just told him it was regarding something extremely important. Brutus, however, wasn't exactly sure why this fellow wanted to see and talk with them, but he didn't question it too much. He simply went along with it.

It was when Brutus told him the name that it finally came back to Gloss, as this was a guy they'd run into once before.

"Gale Hawthorne," was Brutus's answer.


	45. Chapter 45

**CHAPTER 45**

 **DECEMBER**

As Brutus and Gloss made their way through the dense, thick woods, all they could think was that whatever it was this Hawthorne fella wanted with them, it had _better_ be good. There was no way they'd be trailing through the woods that hour of the night just to sit down and have a chat with a guy they'd never even met. But the place he'd asked them to meet him at was only about a five minute walk from where they lived, so luckily they didn't have to go out of their way to find this guy, because that was something they definitely _wouldn't_ be doing. The spot he'd texted for them to meet him at was a wooden bridge that most often people commonly crossed or stopped by to look down at the running stream below. Both Brutus and Gloss had been there more than once while hiking through the forest, so they knew the way and had no worries of getting lost.

"So," said Gloss, as they were continuing along. "You've got _no_ idea what this Hawthorne guy wants?"

"None," said Brutus.

"Wonder what he wants," said Gloss curiously. "Must be important if he's texting you this late at night."

"Don't know," Brutus replied. "But whatever it is, it _better_ be good because if it's not, I'll pummel 'em. You don't just go texting people this late at night. What the hell's that guy's problem anyway?"

"Wait a second," said Gloss suddenly. "How the _hell_ did he get your number?"

"Again, don't know," said Brutus quickly. "Got it off another guy, or something, but who cares. If he says it's important _and_ we'll like what he's got to say, then I'd _like_ to hear what he's got to say."

"You remember who he is though, right?" asked Gloss. "The guy from the store? With the wallet?"

"Yeah, I remember," snapped Brutus and shot his brother an irritated look as if he'd even have to ask if he remembered. "And if that's what this guy's wanting to see us about, then he's gonna have another thing coming because I'll knock the living daylights out of him. He won't even have time to run back home because I'll shove his face into the dirt and make him drink his own blood. No way am I letting him get away if that's what this whole thing's about. And anyway, why would he turn us in _now_? If he'd have wanted to see us squirm that badly, he'd have done it back when he first saw us. No way he'd wait this long to spill the truth."

"Probably," Gloss agreed, and took a moment to recall the first time he and Brutus had run into Gale Hawthorne.

It had been two years ago and he and his brother had been in grade ten with Gale being in the same grade, and the place they'd run into him was at an electronics store in town. Gloss and his brother were out shopping around that day, but what nobody knew was that these two high school kids weren't simply out in search to buy stuff – they were out to _steal_ stuff. It didn't matter to them what they got their hands on either. All they cared about was causing mischief and not getting caught. This had been a thing he and Brutus had always loved doing growing up, and that was finding their way into trouble and doing all they could to _stay_ in trouble and not get busted.

It was one day while they were browsing around in an electronics store and pretending to be casually checking out the various games that they made their move. They'd been keeping their eyes on the shelves of various games when they'd heard a man behind them cursing under his breath and digging through his pockets. What he'd taken out was his wallet, which he'd then laid down beside him before quickly getting up and striding his way over to the manager's office. Both Brutus and Gloss had silently turned around, looked to the table and seeing the wallet sitting there so exposed and out in the open, it struck them as too enticing and tempting of an opportunity to ignore. So without a word, Brutus had taken a seat, slid the wallet into his _own_ pocket and then walked off with his brother following right behind.

What they hadn't expected was for someone to have _seen_ Brutus pick up the wallet and secretly claim it as his own. It was realizing this that Brutus had been struck with a sudden sense of anger and rage that one single stupid person had to have witnessed it. So many times he and Gloss had gotten away with stealing and yet here now, a set of eyes had fallen upon them and watched what they'd done. The question was though was: were the eyes of this person going to stay locked on them or were they going to go searching for help and reveal them as the trouble-making, teenage crooks that they were? All Brutus could do was stand there feeling frozen and wonder what the guy would do next.

The guy looked a few years younger than himself and all Brutus could think was what kind of person this was. Was he an honest, decent kid who'd go straight to the police and report them for robbing a man's wallet? Or was he the kind of guy who'd simply ignore it and walk off as if it were no big deal? Maybe the guy would be too shocked and stunned to go and _do_ _anything_? Brutus hadn't the slightest idea of what might be going through his mind but whatever thoughts he was having, he just hoped they weren't about getting these two thieves into serious trouble. It was a dilemma that could end in only one of two ways. Either this guy would walk off uninterested in what he'd witnessed and Brutus and Gloss would get away with their latest burglary _or_ he'd go to the police and inform them of what he had seen. The two were in a tight spot and whatever it was this guy decided to do in the end...it would determine whether or not they left the store with the wallet in hand.

Brutus and the guy held eye contact for what felt like a lifetime, though it was only a few seconds. Finally, the guy turned, walked up to the front doors and left the store without saying a single word to either Brutus or Gloss. As to why the guy simply walked off without trying to let somebody know the crime Brutus and his brother had committed, Brutus had no idea. But as he watched the guy leaving, he sent him a secret, 'thanks' and then he and Gloss were exiting the store slowly and casually, and not a person around them was aware that a wallet had just been stolen. The man would return to find his money, licence, credit cards and any other personal photos that had been tucked safely away in his wallet...gone.

Brutus couldn't care less for the photos and banking information, though. What he was after was the _cash_ and when he and Gloss were far out of sight from any possible witnesses, he removed the wallet from his pocket and when he saw how much money they had been rewarded with, his eyes lit up and a wicked, victorious grin came over his face. What he was now holding in his hand was _three-hundred dollars._

"Aw, _man_!" Brutus exclaimed, and let out a laugh. "Doesn't get any _sweeter_ than this!"

"No, it doesn't," said Gloss, but then added with a touch of nervousness, "But that guy back at the store. You don't think he's gonna—"

"What, _tell_ somebody?" Brutus interrupted, then said confidently, "Nah. He'll probably just walk off, go back home and forget about it. Why go through all the time and trouble to report two guys who stole a wallet? I mean, would _you_ really care about telling someone?"

Gloss shrugged and said, "Well, _no_...but still, Brutus. You don't know for sure what that kid will do. He might be some annoying tattle tale that likes to get everyone else in trouble and we'll be the next ones he tattles on!"

"Not much we can do about now, though, is there?" was Brutus's sharp response. "We took the money, left, and now we'll just see what happens. I'm telling ya, we're _not_ gonna get caught."

"Man, I hope you're right," was all Gloss could say.

"Just _think_ what we're gonna do with these babies," said Brutus with a smirk. "Three-hundred bucks and it's _all_ ours."

"Yeah, if we don't get _caught_ ," Gloss muttered, but was eyeing the money with obvious greed.

"Oh, _shut up_ , Gloss!" Brutus groaned, and handed him a hundred-dollar bill. "Just take that and see how _that_ feels."

Gloss looked down at the money that had just been shoved into his hand, and Brutus could tell right away that Gloss enjoyed the idea of having such a vast amount of cash in his hand. Gloss had always been as greedy, selfish and cunning as his older brother but there was always one big difference been Brutus and Gloss, and that was that Gloss was a _coward_. Where Brutus was fearless and unafraid of pretty much anything, Gloss would constantly be fretting about the potential trouble they were getting themselves into. If not for the luring and tempting possibilities of what could be theirs if they remained lucky enough to steal it and walk away, then Brutus would have grown up acting on his own. He was glad that Gloss was able to overcome the fear of jeopardy because he was a clever and sly kind of guy and Brutus liked having him around. He figured it was better to have a partner than none at all and not only that, but _two_ minds were _always_ better than one.

"Feels good, don't it?" said Brutus, tucking the rest of the money back into his pocket.

"You're friggen' right it does," said Gloss, and then turned and started the other way. "Let's hope it _stays_ that way."

The two were much relieved when an entire two years had passed and nothing had been spilled about their stealing of the wallet, or anything else they'd robbed during that time. It was clear that the guy from the store _didn't_ care about what he'd seen because if he had, then he and Gloss would have surely been approached by the police by now. Even better, because they hadn't been caught, Gloss had grown to be less cowardly and was starting to act more like Brutus every day. He still wasn't entirely fearless and there were still times when he'd overanalyze what they were doing, but he'd gotten to the point where he'd almost always go along with whatever it was his brother had planned.

This all went through Gloss's mind in less than a minute and the more he thought about it, the more he felt sure that whatever it was that Hawthorne wanted with them, it _wasn't_ regarding a man's wallet that they'd stolen two years ago. He'd informed Brutus that it was extremely important that he and his brother meet up with him, so whatever it _was_ about...it _must_ have been serious.

After ten more minutes of sauntering through the woods, they saw the bridge just up ahead and standing by the rail with his hands dangling over it was _Gale Hawthorne_ _._ They'd seen him frequently around school – in the cafeteria, wandering in the halls or out near the back of the school – and he looked the same as he always did with his dark hair, grey eyes and height of six feet tall. Though he was nowhere near as strong as Brutus or Gloss, he was definitely one of the more intimidating students of Madderson High, mostly because of all the anger he'd often keep boggled up inside him. If there was ever something that wasn't going his way even the slightest, then he'd fly right off the handle and give one the hardest time about it. That was the kind of person he was and it was at the start of this year that other students noticed how cranky and bitter he'd present himself as. As to why, nobody was sure but no one cared much to ask questions and be nosy. But luckily for Gale, he was soon able to contain all the anger and rage inside him and in almost no time at all, students had watched him transform into a much friendlier person.

It was observing him at that moment that both Brutus and Gloss sensed that he was deeply troubled which meant that whatever it was that was bothering them...he needed _their_ help. Gloss looked him over carefully while trying to make out any expression on his face, but found nothing but emptiness. His eyes stared down at the running water as if he were lost in some hopeless fantasy and all he could do was stare into open space. His head was dropped slightly and he was biting his lip to the point where a drop of blood was appearing, but he didn't seem to care. His mind was so far gone from reality that practically _anything_ could happen and he'd still be obsessing over the perfect fantasy that he'd constructed so long ago.

When Brutus and Gloss approached him, Gale hardly noticed them at first and only went on gazing down at the water below. But he then slowly turned his head, gave them a blank stare, and gave the smallest of a smile and said, "So you decided to come, huh?"

Brutus walked up next to him, put his arms over the railing of the bridge and answered, "You said it was important. Was it?"

"More important then _you'll_ ever know," was Gale's quick answer. "What, you think I would have called you all the way out here if it _wasn't?"_

So far, Brutus didn't like Gale's snippy attitude and he _definitely_ wasn't going to let some twelfth grader like him push him around as if he were some inferior kid. If this guy wanted his and Gloss's help, then he'd have to smarten up and start acting a little more calm, rather than take out all his frustration on a guy he'd never even spoke to. If there was one thing someone like Brutus wouldn't tolerate, it was having other people go on acting as if they were above him.

"Oh, I don't know," he said sharply, and gave Hawthorne a steely glare. "But you got my number somehow. Wanna explain what that's all about?"

"Doesn't really matter," said Gale, not sounding too intimidated. "But if you wanna know, I got it from one of your friends."

"And you know them, how?" asked Brutus, raising a brow in obvious suspicion. "I've never seen any of my friends with you around school."

"Easy. I see you two hanging out almost every day on free," Gale explained casually. "So I went up to him, asked him for your number because I had to ask you something important, and he gave it. _Happy_ now?"

"Yeah, whatever," said Brutus, and then asked, "So why'd you call Gloss and I here then? What's this all about? And let me tell ya, if I don't find what you have to tell me important enough, then we're out of here. We could be doing better things right now, spending our time elsewhere. And if it's about what I think it's about, then you're probably gonna wanna leave because I'll beat the living shit out of you, and don't think I won't...because I will. And judging by how much smaller you are then me...I'd be careful if I were you."

"Oh, _trust me_ ," said Gale with a grin. "You'll find the task appealing." He then glanced over at Gloss who hadn't yet spoken a word and barked, "What's the matter with you? Shy?"

Gloss shook his head and said, "No, just thinking."

"About what?" asked Gale curiously, but then his eyes widened as if realizing something and Gloss was met with a knowing smile from Hawthorne. "Never mind. I already know what you're thinking."

"So what am I thinking then?" asked Gloss.

"You're thinking about the wallet you and your brother stole," was Gale's blunt response. "Aren't you?"

"Uh, yeah," said Gloss with a dumb expression. "You're not gonna tell on us, are ya?"

Gale only laughed as if the question actually amused him and said to Gloss, "Now why would I go and do that? Don't you think I would have gotten you two in shit two years ago when it actually happened? Why the hell would I have waited this long to do it? And anyway, I couldn't do that now even if I _wanted_ to."

"And why's that?" said Brutus, keeping his eyes on Gale.

"Because I _need_ you two," said Gale simply, and looked them both in the eye with dead seriousness. "I'm not gonna go and make _enemies_ when what I need right now are friendsandassistants."

"Uh, _assistants_?" asked Brutus, and gave him a look that had nothing but confusion written all over it. "Care to explain that more?"

"I can't do this job alone," Gale told him bitterly. "I've already tried and it's gotten me nowhere. So I'm going on a little search to see who can best help me get what I want." _Wrong. Things are going just as I've planned but can't let you_ _guys know that. As far as you know, my plan's gone downhill and I need your help to get things back on true. Yes, I need your help, but not because my plan's been ruined...because I need to keep it going._

"And what is it that you want?" asked Gloss. "Money?"

Gale burst out laughing and said, "Money... _right_. Course that's what _you'd_ think. Nice one, but no. What I want is something that means more to me than money ever will. Yeah, money's great but I could care less about that right now. What I want is something better."

"And that is?" said Brutus, getting impatient.

"A girl," was Gale's answer.

"Okay. W _hat_ girl then?" said Brutus, tired of Gale taking so long to get to the point. "Lot of girls at Madderson High if you haven't noticed."

"Katniss Everdeen."

"Oh, her?" said Brutus, surprised. "So you got the hots for her, huh?"

"Something like that," Gale replied. "But it's a bit more complicated than you'd think."

"Uh, it's not rocket science," scoffed Brutus. "You go to her, talk to her, get her to like you and there you go. She's all yours. What's the problem here? You get Gloss and I to come all the way out here just so you can tell us _that_? Not impressed so far so if you'd like us to stay, you'd better start talking, or we're gone. I didn't come all the way down here just to help some guy with his love life. If you're too shy to go talk to her, then guess what? Tough luck."

"Patience," said Gale calmly, not losing his cool. "You'll hear it all."

"So what's the big deal anyway?" asked Gloss. "You like Katniss, but what's the dilemma here?"

"You know a guy named Peeta Mellark?"

"Oh, that guy!" said Gloss, instantly recognizing the name. "Yeah, he's that baker's son, ain't he?"

"Right you are," said Gale.

"That kid's a wuss," said Brutus, laughing. "I've seen him all the time in the halls doing his lameass sketches and painting pictures in art and it's just too funny. And who has _ever_ seen a guy that's so in love with his little girlfriend? Holy fuck...you never see him and Katniss apart. It's just him and Katniss, Katniss and him every second of every day and—"

"And that's the problem!" snarled Gale, not able to contain the anger any longer. It would have been suicide to release his fury in front of Katniss or Peeta but it made no difference if Brutus and Gloss got a taste of his outrages. "That little freak's been with her for months now and she's pretty much pushed me out of her life. Ever since that bread boy's come along, she's spent all her time with him. Yeah, we're still best friends and we hang out but that's never gonna be good enough for me. I'll never get over her and if she thinks I'm giving up, crawling in a hole and forgetting about her, then she's way over her head. Whether she likes it or not, I'll _never_ be giving up. I'm sick of just being the best friend in her life because I know I deserve better than that."

"Ah, so you're gonna go after her?" said Brutus with a smirk. "Alright. Not a bad idea to get her back but how exactly are you gonna do that when she and baker boy are so head over heels in love with each other? You might need to come up with a plan to get over that little hurdle. Not that I care much about love but I've been told that once two people are in love...it's almost impossible to break them apart."

"I've already got a plan," Gale smiled.

"Then start explaining," said Gloss. "And while you're at it, tell us why you need us so badly?"

"Brutus is right," Gale told them, tapping his fingers on the railing. "I _am_ gonna go after Katniss, but it's not really her I'm after – it's Bread Boy. He's the factor in this whole equation and once I've taken him out of it, then she's mine. That's a done deal, but till he's out of her life and gone forever, I'll never stand a chance. Hate to admit it but I can't compete with him. That little fucker's gotten in so deep with her that anything I do would be seen as lame. But if I get rid of Mellark, then she'll have no choice but to let someone into her life to help her get over the loss of him and who better to do that then the guy who'd been her best friend her whole life? Once I get rid of Peeta, she'll be so hopelessly crushed and heartbroken that giving her love to another guy might not be such a bad idea and the more time she'll spend with me, the more she'll realize that she _can't_ live the rest of her life alone and without love. She'll realize it sooner than later that she'll needme."

"Yeah, that sounds nice and all," said Brutus. "But you still haven't explained what you're actually gonna do. You say you wanna get rid of Peeta. Fine. But you got a plan to make that happen? Because if you don't, then you'd better come up with one."

"Oh, I've got a plan," said Gale with a proud and wicked smirk.

"So explain," said Brutus.

"Well, long story short," said Gale. "It's a more complicated plan than you'd ever truly appreciate, but maybe you'll understand just how perfect of a plan it is once I've told you. I've got everything planned but it's gonna take me a while. I've gotta take it one step at a time and then once everything's been done and put into motion...Peeta will be _history_ and Katniss will _be mine_."

"Just _tell us_ already!" snapped Gloss. "What the hell's your big plan then?"

Gale stared them both in the eyes and said, enjoying the thought, "We _break him_...emotionally."

"Uh... _what_?" asked Gloss, puzzled. "And you're gonna break him, how?"

"Exactly what I just said," said Gale, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "We're gonna break him emotionally."

"You keep saying ' _we_ '?" said Gloss. "You really need our help _that_ bad?"

"Like I said," Gale answered. "I can't do this alone. But if you two helped me and did what I asked, then it'd be no problem at all. And I think you'll like the little idea I've got in mind in how to go about doing that."

"I'm intrigued," said Brutus, listening closely. "Go on."

Gale gave Brutus a smile and said, "You're the Careersof Madderson High. Nobody thinks twice about messing with you and any little thing you two do leaves any normal person scared to their bones. You look someone in the eye and they look away; you walk behind someone and they walk a bit faster; you give them a wink and they feel like fainting. If that's not power, then I don't know what is. You two are at the top of the food chain and anyone else is nowhere but below you, including Mellark."

"True," said Brutus. "But what do you want us to _do_?"

"Break him," said Gale flatly. "Do whatever the hell you have to, I don't care. Just make that little creep wish he didn't have to come to school. Make him think his life is falling apart and there's nothing he can do about. Make him miserable. Make him feel pain that he's never felt. Humiliate him, mock him, crush him, stomp on him and then by that point, he'll be so shattered that not even Katniss will be able to put him back together. I don't want you guys to back down, either. Do whatever you have to do make his life a living hell at Madderson High. You've already shown what you can do to all the others; they've been intimidated by you enough times. It's time you put your focus on a new victim. That bread boy will be fresh meat for you two."

" _Fresh meat_ , eh?" said Brutus, and grinned. "Now you got my attention."

"Basically what I'm asking you to do," Gale went on. "Is to make that guy's life a living hell. Make him experience a fear he's never known. Make him think he's vulnerable and helpless and that you two as Careers _cannot_ be stopped. I don't know if you two are familiar with the term, but I'm hoping after what you two have done to him, this will have occurred. It's rare and doesn't happen to most, but it's real. And if I'm lucky and I get what I want, it'll have happened. He'll be crushed and there'll be no putting him back together again."

"You seem pretty sure of yourself," Brutus observed. "And what makes you so convinced this'll happen?"

"It will," was all Gale said.

"Yeah?" Gloss challenged. "And what if it doesn't? Then what? You gonna—"

"Trust me," said Gale, instantly cutting him off. "It's gonna happen."

Brutus put his hands up and said casually, "Whatever you say."

"Like I said," Gale told him. "Doesn't happen often and only a small percentage of people end up like this, but it's real. If Peeta gets struck with this condition, there'll be no going back. I've done enough research to know how the process works. The second he gets hit with it, everything changes. His mind will get filled with shadows. His perspective on life and everything in it will become dark and bleak. He'll enter a realm where he's no longer the same person and the best thing of all," and here his eyes began gleaming, "He'll never go back to the person he was. From all the stories I've read...it's pretty much an irreversible state."

"So that's your plan then?" said Brutus, absorbing Gale's words.

"Seems like it," said Gloss with a shrug.

"I want you guys to _invade his_ mind," said Gale, grinning. "Invade it and fill it with fear, anger and hopelessness. Make him realize just how _alone_ he really is. Make him feel like not even his beloved little girlfriend can keep him strong. It's not that I wouldn't go and do that to him myself, but if I did that then any hope I have of getting Katniss is gone. You think she'd want anything to do with me when I'm trying to make her boyfriend's life a living hell? _No._ And that's why I'll need your help for this. As long as I'm safely off to the sides and hidden from _both_ of them, then they'll never assume I had anything to do with it. And why would she? Why would she ever think her best friend – a guy she's known and trusted for years – is actually the one doing it all? I spent a lot of time with her after he got shot, so at least she thinks I cared about what happened, and that I was actually hoping he'd make it. I acted shocked and even shaken at what happened and of course she believed that's how I really felt. She's wrong about everything, but she'll never think that. Best of all, she still thinks I'm fine with them being together and that Peeta and I don't have any reason to feel bitter towards each other but that's what I want her to think. The fact that I've acted cool and in control about it just makes her think I'm alright with her and Mellark being together. She thinks I've gone and found myself another girl when really...I'm still _just_ as much in the game. But they don't know that. They _can't_ know that, or this whole plan was for nothing."

"So as long as you stay hidden," said Brutus, putting the pieces together and finally making sense of what Gale was telling them. "Then when the time _does_ come for you to approach her, she'll never think that you had _anything_ to do with Peeta being crushed and gotten rid of. She'll just think that you've been living your life, remaining best friends with her and doing nothing else."

"That's _exactly_ it," Gale confirmed.

"Interesting," said Brutus. "I gotta ask you though. When you mentioned Peeta getting shot, I can't help but wonder if you just _might_ have had something to do with that? _Did you_?"

Gale didn't hesitate and instead, answered proudly, "Of course."

"Should have known," said Brutus, but then asked, "So let me guess. You hired that Titus guy to come to Madderson High, threaten to bomb the school if anyone tried to stop him and then instruct him to shoot one person and one person only and that was Peeta Mellark."

 _Right you are, Brutus_. _But the best thing of all is that even if you two ever did want to go to the police and try and convince them of the true_ _villain behind this whole thing...you'll have no way to prove it._ _Titus won't ever reveal that it was me that hired him for it and as long as you can't prove that it was me...then I'll be safe from getting the same punishment as him. Doesn't matter what you two weasels try and do from this point on, you're just two pieces in this little game of mine, and I'm in control here._

"You're a smart guy," Gale commented. "That's pretty much how it went. Wasn't hard either. I've known Titus for a few years now and the older he got, the crazier he became. He was always a violent and crazy kind of guy, so I knew if there was anyone that could walk into that school and get the job done, it was him. Too bad I didn't think he'd be such an idiot and only shoot Bread Boy _once_ _._ "

"You wanted him shot _more_ than once?" asked Gloss.

"Yes, because that would have killed him," said Gale with an icy tone. "But that idiot thought one shot to the chest would be enough; too bad it wasn't. The doctors healed him up real good and now he's back to normal. So originally, my plan _did_ fail because Titus let me down. He didn't do what I asked him to and that was to kill Peeta. I specifically said to make sure Peeta got killed but then again, that Titus guy's unpredictable. You never know what he's gonna do or say. When I first approached him, I thought he was gonna shoot me right in the head without even letting me talk. You can never tell with people like him. But it's a good thing I went to him because even though he didn't end Mellark's life...I still got something out of what did happen. Something that will work to my advantage."

"So that was all you wanted to do from the beginning then?" asked Brutus. "Just hire Titus to shoot Peeta and kill him?"

"Yeah," said Gale. "It was simple enough. Just kill Peeta and he'd never again be a threat to what I want with Katniss, but I won't be able to rely on Titus anymore. He's no help to me now."

"Why?" said Gloss. "Where is he now?"

"Behind bars," was Gale's immediate answer. "He's no help to me in jail. But I guess he wasn't totally useless. He _did_ manage to scare both Peeta and Katniss, so at least they'll never _truly_ get over the scare of it. Don't think it'll ever leave them so really, it wasn't all completely for nothing. And it's only gonna get better from here on because it really doesn't matter if you two fail or succeed. It'll still end the same way and I'll still get what I want. Titus might not have killed Peeta but he did set something else in motion that's only gonna come in handy later on. Same thing with you two. It won't matter if you fail because the plan's still gonna go through and turn out beautifully. If you accomplish what I want you to do, then it just means things I gonna work out a lot better than I planned but I don't need you to be successful for me to still get what I want."

"Uhh... _what_?" said Brutus, feeling lost at the odd comment. It seemed like nothing Gale was saying made sense, and things were only sounding more baffling the longer he went on speaking. "So if Peeta's not broken emotionally, like you want to happen, then you'll _still_ get Katniss? How does that even make sense?" _And what the hell does he mean about Titus? He wanted Peeta dead, he didn't die, and yet he's still acting like he actually got something out of it._ _Either you're bloody clever Hawthorne...or you're a hopeless moron. Not even sure to what to think of you right now._

"Simple," Gale smiled. "Because my plan doesn't end there. There's more."

"How _much_ more, Hawthorne?" asked Brutus curiously. "How _big_ is this plan of yours?"

"What I've got schemed is a master plan, Brutus," said Gale boastfully. "Don't think anyone's ever come up with such a wicked plan. Whether you two succeed at crushing Mellark, or fail at breaking him apart, it won't even matter. I'd _like_ for you to break him and to make him squirm, but either way the rest of the plan will still get put into motion regardless of what you two accomplish. Of course I'm hoping you two shatter him but it's not gonna be over if you guys fail. You're only one part of a much bigger plan. Whether he gets broken or not, what I want to happen still will."

He then chuckled to himself and declared with confidence, "Then again...it's pretty much already happened. It's happening right now as we speak."

"You're really getting me interested in this master plan," said Brutus, and gave a slight grin. "Care to reveal it?" _So he wanted Peeta dead but that didn't happen, now he wants to break him, and there's still more after that? How much planning can one person do?_

"Only if you promise to keep it _our_ little secret," said Gale seriously. "Because as you two both know, I still remember you stealing that guy's wallet. If you two got me into shit, then what would stop _me_ from getting you two into shit _as well_? You think you're safe and out of harm's way but you're not. I can still go to the police and expose you two for the sneaky little thieves you are. So be smart when I tell you to keep this between just the three of us, got it? You don't try and get me into crap and I won't get you into crap."

"Got it," said Brutus. "We guard your secret and you guard ours. Now what's this master plan of yours?"

 _You really think I'm gonna go and just spill this plan of mine?_ thought Gale in amusement. _You really think I'm just gonna reveal every little thing I got planned for that freak? You must be dumber than I thought because no way would I ever go and do that. Then you two will go straight to the police, tell them what I'd had planned and then they'll know it was me that did it, because they'd have the proof right in front of them! You think I'm telling you everything? Give me a break. I don't care how much you claim I can trust you, I could never trust anyone in the world with what I've got planned. It's for me_ _to know, and for you two not to know. Just be happy with knowing what your role in this game is because that's all you're getting out of me._

When at last Gale had explained to them the details of his incredible plan, the two were left with opened mouths and widened eyes. It was almost like what Gale was telling them were words that could only be spoken from someone that was...heartless.

"You _really are_ an evil bastard, aren't you?" said Brutus, chuckling. "You really think this is gonna work then, eh?"

 _Course it's gonna work_ , and Gale had to keep from laughing. _Because I haven't even told you everything! If you think that's gonna work, then_ _I really am gonna have Katniss to myself once this whole mess is done_. _It's just like dominoes. Once the first part of this plan gets set into motion, then the others will fall in turn_.

"I'll take that as a compliment," said Gale with a shrug.

"That's...that's _horrid_ ," said Gloss, but then added, "But it's _friggen' brilliant_. There's no way Peeta will still be with Katniss after all _that's_ happened. It's...it's crazy. I'd be shocked if it didn't work."

"And that's why it'll work," said Gale. "A person doesn't go through all that and walk out undamaged or unbroken. No, this is gonna break him to the point where he's not gonna wanna live anymore. He'll be so crushed that whatever Katniss could even manage to say to him, it won't do any good. He's never been through a thing like this before. It's all gonna be newand aliento him and with the kind of person he is...he's not gonna handle it well. He's a wimp and cowardly kind of guy that'll soon be afraid of his own shadow. If he was a strong kind of guy, then I'd have to re-think some things. But Mellark's probably the biggest wimp I know and he's gonna be in for a big shock real soon and no way is he gonna be able to ignore it."

"Man, you've got him by the balls with this one," commented Gloss. If only they knew what was coming."

"Oh, don't worry," said Gale with a smug and arrogant smirk."They'll find out soon enough. Shit's gonna hit the fan real soon."

"So, you're guaranteed it'll work then, huh?" said Brutus. "No doubts at all that it just might fail?"

" _More_ than guaranteed," said Gale with confidence. "And you two got nothing to worry about. It won't matter whether you fail or succeed because the plan will still get put into motion whether Peeta's completely shattered or not. You won't have to worry about what happened to Titus happening to you. He was so crazy that he didn't care one way or the other if he got caught; he was just out to spill blood that day. But your mission is a lot simpler, because you can get away with most of your task without _really_ being out in the open and—"

"Can I ask you something?" Brutus interrupted.

"Sure," said Gale.

"That day two years ago," Brutus started. "In that electronics store when we took that guy's wallet. You saw us, but didn't tell anyone. You could have easily turned us in and gotten us into shit, but you just walked off. Why?"

"Didn't care," said Gale. "Stuff like that happens all the time. Why do you think I was gonna concern myself with something that happens every day? Why would I go through all the trouble just to report two teenage crooks when that guy's wallet had nothing to do with me? I didn't care that he lost his money. It wasn't mine, and that was the important thing. Now if it had been my wallet, then you two would have been in major crap, but it wasn't. And I'm sure you both agree with me on this but why care about what happens to others? It's better to just care about yourself and not concern yourself with total strangers."

"Well, thanks for that," said Brutus gratefully.

"Don't have to thank me," Gale responded. "But because I did let you two go you're probably getting why I called you two down here and not somebody else. You're not the only Careers in the school. Plenty more of them around. But I did you two a favour back then and that was letting you go. I let you two escape with that guy's wallet without even thinking of turning you in. So in a way, what I'm asking is for you guys to _return_ the favour for me."

Brutus and Gale didn't answer and instead, just kept staring at Gale as he went on talking.

"You're in my debt," said Gale. "And if you two want to keep up this little act you've got going on – going out and stealing people's cash and anything else you can get your greedy little hands on – then you've got to promise me that you'll return the favour. Return the favour and don't say a word to anyone, got it?"

Brutus and Gloss nodded and said together, "Got it."

"This'll be a nice relationship though," Gale went on, looking forward to what was to soon unfold. "You two get to claim another victim and I get to sit back and enjoy it all while waiting to get the rest of my plan going. So in a way, we both benefit from this, which is why I didn't hesitate to reach out to you. You guys get something out of this too, so I figured you'd jump at the chance to help. And I was right."

"And how long do you think it'll take to crush him?" asked Brutus.

"Hard to say," said Gale, unsure of the answer. "Could take months, maybe longer. But I'm guessing it'll happen a lot quicker than that. Mellark's never known what's it's like to be a victim in school – to walk through the halls and have eyes following you constantly; to get humiliated and embarrassed and never want to have to return to school again and best of all...to feel like he's alone and that he's the only person in the school feeling like that. That's what I want you guys to do. Don't just crush him, but make him the laughing stock of the school. Make the entire school laugh right along with you. Do whatever you have to do to make his life hell. And you two are _clever_. I'm sure you'll do just fine."

"So that's our task then?" asked Brutus. "Make Peeta Mellark's life a living hell."

"That's just about it," said Gale. "Take control of his mind and fill it fear and misery and everything after that will fall right into place."

"I gotta tell you again, though," said Brutus. "That plan of yours is pretty brilliant. What with the kind of guy Mellark is...it'll work. Should be interesting to see how everything turns out."

 _If only you knew it all_ , thought Gale. _Then you'd see how truly brilliant it is_.

"Again, thank you," said Gale with another of his arrogant smiles. "Didn't take me that long to figure it out either. As soon as I heard Peeta would recover and come back to school, I knew what I'd have to do to get him away from Katniss."

"So right now's the calm before the storm, then, isn't it?" Gloss suggested. "Once the calm's over, then the storm begins and Peeta Mellark gets thrown into a world of hell."

"I like that," said Gale, chuckling. "The calm before the storm."

"I just have one question," said Brutus with his eyes fixed on Gale.

"And what's that?"

"You said you need our help and that I get," Brutus explained. "But if there's more to this plan of yours which you've told us there is...then why are you waiting? If you need our help, fine. We help you out, but why wait to get started on the rest of your plan?"

To this question Gale gave a smirk that could only be described as out-and-out evil, and a response of, "Time's not right."

"So time's an issue then?"

"It is," said Gale, and told the two of them cunningly, "But once the time's right, that's a whole different story. But I'm not in a hurry. I've got loads of time. Can't worry about what needs to be done later when Peeta hasn't even been shattered yet. That comes first but then once that's done and the time is right...the plan moves forward."

He then turned and walked off, with Brutus and Gloss following behind.

Before separating, he thought smugly: _nothin' like a little help from my fellow Donees._ _First Titus, now these two. What a small world this is._ _Just wait, Bread Boy. No way you're gonna survive the storm I got brewing. Just wait till the storm hits and you're thrown right into it, head first...and left to drown with the sharks._


End file.
